


The Teeth of Wealth

by LindaOnASkateboard



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bellamione Coven, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:35:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21556339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LindaOnASkateboard/pseuds/LindaOnASkateboard
Summary: Bellamione In Victorian-era England, Hermione Granger is a middle-class young woman just beginning to go to balls to look for suitors. She catches the eye of the youngest Weasley son and they quickly get engaged. What she doesn't know is the city holds a dark secret that has chosen her as its next meal.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Comments: 8
Kudos: 126





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have been writing this for about a year on ff and I'm just now finally posting it here. I hope y'all enjoy.

Hermione finishes preparing dinner and sets two plates on the table, One for her father and one for herself. She sets the bread, cheese, and sausage on them and waits for him to get back to their small yet nice apartment. It has two bedrooms, a room for entertaining, a very small library, and a kitchen big enough for two people to cook in. The apartment is furnished nicely with furniture that had belonged to the Longbottom family before they lost a lot of money and they had to size down to a smaller house. The family rented them the space.  
Her father, valuing punctuality, is always in the door by eight o’clock. Dinner is on the table by seven fifty-five as he always instilled the value of time in her as well. He’s a Clerk for the law office just a few streets over. The low salary of a clerk is supplemented by Hermione’s work downstairs in the bakery. It pays half the rent and supplies the daily bread, giving a bit more room for nicer clothes and the illusion of higher class to the general public.  
As her father walks through the door, she greets him with a smile and small talk about his day at work. They sit down at the table at five past eight and have a quiet meal until they reach the last few bites. Her father, sitting back in his chair, begins to speak.  
“Hermione, your eighteenth birthday passed a month ago,” her father begins, causing anxiety to rise in her chest, she knows where this is going.  
“You know, I could have married you off at twelve, but I chose to wait. Very clever of me, you’ve been invited to a ball at the Weasley Manor. I do believe the youngest Weasley boy has taken a liking to seeing you in the bakery. He is handsome and wealthy. Now, before you object, I want you to realize that eventually, you will marry. An offer like this will not come again, my dear. I’ve given you time and let you read your books, but you must think about the future,” He says all of this with a soft, loving smile on his face as Hermione sits, looking quite offended as if she had just been backhanded across the face.  
“But Father, I don’t know the boy. Marriage to someone I don’t know could be horrendous. What if he’s a drunkard or abusive,”  
“Now Hermione, the Weasleys have never shown anything but kindness in the public eye, your fears have no basis. I’ll buy you a dress, at least go to the ball and get to know him, give him a chance,”  
This is the end of the conversation, the next day, Saturday, is spent at the seamstress’s shop, getting fitted for a dress that would be a simple pattern but with small embellishments that would distract from the cheaper pattern and fabric. After Hermione is measured in an uncomfortable and unfamiliar room by the seamstress, she gets dressed again.  
Walking back into the waiting room while her father talks pattern and price with the seamstress, she sees a woman who hadn’t been there before, this, in itself, is not all that strange. It’s her appearance that makes her presence quite odd. A mess of curls is piled on top of her head, secured into a bun. The book lowers slightly, and eye contact is made. While it is lowered, Hermione sees a silver brooch on the black dress of the woman. On it is a raven, the crest of some noble house. A strange sight to see in public. The more noble families are notorious for staying in, not venturing out for the general public to see. Just as Hermione got a good look at the black-clad woman, her father comes out of the room with a smile on his face and a jolly gait. He had obviously haggled successfully with the seamstress and gotten a bargain.  
After the minimal jewelry and white satin shoes are bought for the ball, they also buy a new corset as all of hers had belonged to her mother before her. They get back to the bakery and Hermione quickly sets to work in the kitchen, doing as much to help Nan as possible.  
The bakery is on a street near the higher-class neighborhoods, its safe and relatively clean. The inside of the bakery always smells like warm, sweet bread. The shop specializes in pastries for parties or a snack for a richer patron passing through. It’s decorated in warm colors and the main room was never empty of a customer. The smells are always so enticing to the people doing their daily errands. A few complain happily that the scent isn’t fair but always leave with their stomachs full and their purses considerably emptier. This is Hermione’s favorite place. In truth, it has become more of a home than the apartment upstairs.  
Nan is a woman in her late fifties to early sixties. No one calls her by her real name, everyone refers to the sweet, matronly woman as Nan. A name affectionately given to her by her grandson, Neville, whose parents died when he was small. Ever since he turned nine, he ran deliveries for the bakery. When he began this job, Hermione and her father had just moved into the apartment above. They spent all of their time together and grew very close. There isn’t much that can describe Neville, he’s just sweet and wonderful, and he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.  
The reason they moved was that her father, a newly made widower, couldn’t stand to stay in their old dwelling, filled with the sweet scent of vanilla that was her mother’s favorite. Hermione had a little sister for less than a day, they had been trying so hard and her father had been overjoyed to have another daughter, another child at all. But, her mother had died in childbirth and the baby was weak. She didn’t make it through the night and it tore her father apart. So, here they were, just the two of them, living in a rather nice apartment in the nicer parts of the city. It hasn’t always been this easy, before, they had less food and her father worked more. But, she was quickly given a job by Nan when their situation was revealed to her.  
Nan greets Hermione as she begins helping with the baking and cleaning after Nan, a notoriously messy woman. The quiet monotony of the cooking and cleaning calms Hermione, leaving no room for anxiety as she contently hums while cleaning out an oven. The bell on the door rings and Hermione wipes her hands on her apron as she steps out into the main room filled with pastries on display. Neville grins and walks further into the room. Hermione’s frown stops him.  
She tells him all about how she’s going to be married off to a Weasley if her father follows through with the plan. He tries to reason with her that it can’t be that horrible, but she can tell by the sad look on his face that he doesn’t believe that either. He knows that means they won’t be able to spend time together without talk of a scandal anymore. He knows this is an end to their childhood, but he so desperately doesn’t want it to be.  
Though only a week has passed, Hermione feels like it has been an eternity. Going about everyday life was nearly impossible with the nervousness of the impending courtship. She stands in her chemise and stockings, having Nan help her lace her new corset. After the corset comes the crinoline that would support the bell shape of her pink and white dress, then there’s the camisole to protect the dress from her skin and a petticoat over the crinoline to help the skirts of her dress lay smoothly. Then comes the new gown, a lovely dress that was nicer than any Hermione has ever had.  
For the walk to the ball, Hermione is accompanied by a few girls she’d grown up with. Though, her only real friend here is Luna. Luna is a strange girl with a good heart. She’s slightly older than Hermione and her family is somewhat well-to-do. She has good sense and a good heart. She’d be the ideal wife for any man but for some reason, she’s yet to marry.  
Polite conversation is held the entire walk, it’s a pleasant night, clear skies and uncharacteristically warm for an October evening. Luna and the other girls chat about the men they’ll meet and the old friends they’ll see. There’s a lot less giddiness in Hermione, anxiety rises in her chest as she mulls over the idea of being betrothed to a man she’s meeting for the first time tonight.  
“You’re quiet tonight,” Luna mutters, careful not to let the others hear and ruin their excitement with worry.  
“I’m just thinking. Last week I was sure I had plenty of time to marry, thought maybe I’d marry a friend or someone I love. Then we’d raise a few kids and I’d have grandchildren. And I know most of that will happen, but not on my own terms. It’s selfish but you understand, right?”  
“Sometimes we have to give things up. I’m sure no one in this arrangement is incredibly happy with the way it will turn out. We must make do with what we have and you, Hermione, are much luckier than you realize. Do you know how many girls in our class are dying to marry a higher born man? It doesn’t happen often, and he has basically handed himself to you. At least try to have fun and give the boy a chance,” Luna then turns back to the group of girls and continues their conversations about expensive clothes and the men who will be there.  
Maybe the ball won’t be so bad. Hermione thinks to herself. Luna, though quite odd, always has a way of making things feel better. And, though it isn’t the beginning of the courtship season, this is her first ball and she wants to savor every last minute of it. She appreciates the presence of her friend who is and is not sensible at the same time.  
The ball is being held in the hall of the Weasley manor, everything decorated splendidly with burgundy and gold, the colors of the Weasley family. A large banner with the family crest, a weasel, adorns the archway into the hall.  
Trying not to look too amazed at the gorgeous décor, Hermione takes a dance card, a small book with every dance, the composer, and a line for the name of whomever she intended to dance with. Even this has been decorated with the Weasley crest and colors. A small pencil is attached with a decorative cord and another cord is attached to allow Hermione to fasten it to her wrist or gown.  
Luna introduces Ginny and Hermione. They exchange a few words and Ginny introduced Ron, a somewhat attractive, clumsy man with horribly garish red hair. Ron bows slightly, taking her hand and pressing his lips to her knuckles.  
“It’s lovely to finally be introduced to you, Miss Granger. I’ve seen you in the bakery and have found myself quite taken with your beauty. I will say, I did not expect I would consider marrying a woman who works. But, of course, you’ll quit once we’ve married. You’ll have no need to work,” he says all of this in an annoying, self-righteous tone that makes Hermione want nothing more than to slap him upside the head.  
“Actually, Mister Weasley, I’m quite proud of my work at the bakery,” she says, keeping her tone as civil as possible, “I don’t do it out of necessity,” she can feel her nails digging into her palms through her gloves, trying to resist the urge to turn sharply and walk across the room, giving him no more of her time. Ginny casts her a sympathetic look as he fills in dances on her card before leaving to socialize with the other women.  
After he leaves, Ginny assures her he’s not as bad once you get to know him and tells her about her marriage to Harry Potter. It had been arranged but they grew to love each other. Hermione doesn’t believe this will ever happen with her, but she convinces herself she’s just being dramatic.  
Socializing with the other guests was a lot easier than Hermione expected. Her dance card filled up quickly and only two of the spaces were filled by Ronald Weasley. She left the dances she didn’t know blank, which is just a few of them, as her father had paid for brief dancing lessons. She had also left a few dances free for a break to have refreshments.  
Her third dance, a waltz, of course, was one her and Ron decided upon. As they take their place on the dance floor, Hermione tries not to be nauseated by the too-strong scent of rose oil. It doesn’t help that she’s already had a glass of champagne after her first dance with a rather handsome, tall man with dark hair. Most of the men here are attractive but Hermione can’t seem to find any of them more than handsome. There is no man here that makes Hermione’s heart flutter. Come to think of it, there has never been a man to make her have that feeling.  
She used to think she might marry Neville, he’d make an agreeable husband and he was a Longbottom. And, though the family lost a lot of its money when his parents died, it still had a title. She would technically be moving up in society and her children would have a good life, they could have private tutors and socialize at more than one ball a year. This could happen with Ron too, she supposes, but he seems a lot less agreeable. This thought is cemented as they begin to dance.  
His hands wander as he leads, he fumbles slightly, and she has to pay too much attention to keeping his hand on her waist and nowhere else to actually focus on dancing and getting the simple moves right. A desperate glance to her left, against the wall where Luna was standing a few moments before, proves fruitless. Luna has moved, and her spot has been taken by a woman with familiar, curly black hair, aristocratic features, and an all-black gown as if she’s in mourning.  
This was the woman who had been reading in the dress shop. The curly black hair trying to escape its place on her head and silver brooch with a raven on it, a testament to that statement. As Hermione dances, she finds herself glancing in the direction of the same wall, searching for the woman. The fourth or fifth time she’s looks in that direction, the woman stares back, nearly black eyes meet light brown ones. Hermione quickly looks away as her heart seems to stop for a second, the terrifying, cold gaze somehow seems to burn a hole right into her soul.  
As the dance ends, Hermione and Ron head over to the refreshment room where she has another glass of champagne and dreads the rest of the dances coming later in the night, another dance with Ron will be at the end of the night and she’s already trying to figure out a way out of it. She can possibly play ill, maybe faint, but that would be dishonest. So, she will dance with Ron and go home and try to read or sleep away the memories.  
She and Ron walk around the room, having both left the fourth dance open so they could socialize. It’s only for a few minutes, she tells herself, but she knows that’s not true, this is the easy part of it, the courtship. This is when they can’t improperly touch or converse without a chaperone. Later, they can be alone. Ron introduces her to his older brother, Charlie. He helps to break some of the awkwardness with friendly conversation. They talk about the possible engagement which is spoken about as if it may or may not happen. They are going to marry, that’s just the way this will go.  
She needs to try and make the most of the situation she finds herself in because there isn’t much she can do to change it. So, she smiles and flirts, she needs to come off as agreeable, so they can marry. She tries to imagine being married and having children with this man, but she can’t. All she imagines for her future is books, maybe a lavish lifestyle, maybe not. She’d love to travel but that was unlikely. Not unless she married someone higher than Ron, and, at this point, he was who she was stuck with. The idea of ugly little redheaded children running around everywhere was not something she would like to come true.  
The two men leave, Ron off to dance and Charlie to visit with an old friend. This leaves Hermione alone but she’s not uncomfortable. She left this dance specifically, so she could have some time to recuperate. But Ginny finds her quickly and so does the black-haired woman. Polite conversation between Hermione and Ginny is struck up but Hermione can’t seem to be distracted from the woman against the wall. Hermione decides to brave another glance in her direction and is met with a smug look.  
“Who’s that?” Hermione asks, “she’s wearing a crest,”  
“That’s Bellatrix Lestrange. She’s the eldest Black sister. She married Rodolphus Lestrange but refused to give up her family crest, so she wears the Black Crest rather than that of the Lestrange family,” Ginny says in a nonchalant tone, toying with her own family crest, this one on a simple necklace.  
“What’s she doing with her fan?” asks Hermione, taking a sip of champagne. She’s completely untrained in fan etiquette after all.  
Ginny looks at the eldest Black sister.  
“She’s asking you to kiss her?”  
Hermione chokes on the champagne and Bellatrix laughs before walking out of the refreshment room with a glass of champagne.  
“That’s impossible, she’s married and I’m a woman,”  
“I’m just saying, that’s what it looked like,” Ginny says, stifling laughter herself, “it was probably just the way she was holding her fan. I’ve never seen a Black laugh like that before though,”  
Hermione and Ginny wait by the table for the next dance. A man who Hermione has never spoken to before now comes to escort her to the dance floor. After that dance comes another and another until one of the dances she had reserved for a break. She makes her way over to the wall where a couch has been placed. She desperately needs to rest her aching feet, before she can make it, however, a man with white-blonde hair approaches with a bow.   
“Would you honor me with this dance?” the man asks, “unless you’re otherwise engaged, that is.”  
Before Hermione can open her mouth to answer, the man’s eyes widen, and Hermione turns to look behind her. There was the eldest Black sister, staring the man right in the eyes and making some strange motion.  
“Actually, I believe I did, in fact, have a dance lined up. You must accept my apology,” he says, his voice wavering slightly as his eyes dart around. He doesn’t make eye contact with Hermione the entire time. He instead watches Madam Lestrange and seems to be searching for an escape.  
“It’s quite alright,” says Hermione in a confused tone, not quite sure what to think of the silent interaction.  
After that dance was over, the card had been filled out by a Sirius Black. He quickly makes his way over to her and escorts her to the dance floor. They make polite conversation until the topic of Bellatrix Lestrange comes up.  
“Is there any relation between you and Bellatrix Lestrange?” Hermione asks, wanting to know more about the black-clad woman.  
“Yes, we’re cousins, why do you ask?” there’s a hint of warning in his voice, like this is a topic that he doesn’t like to touch on, she decides to proceed with caution.  
“I’m not sure, she seemed rather flirtatious with her fan, but I don’t understand fan etiquette. Do you know why that is?”  
“She’s probably messing with you like most Blacks do. You should stay away from the Black family, they’re all monsters,”  
“You’re a Black,”  
“I’m a monster,”  
With that, the conversation is over. It’s back to pleasantries and nothing of real importance. He seems rather distant and glares at Bellatrix every now and then. Hermione, wanting to take one more stab at the topic, decides she’ll be impolite and ask once more.  
“It seems the two of you are not on good terms,” she says, hoping to get more information out of him.  
“Let’s just say, we share different values,”  
“Like what?”  
“Dietary preferences,” He stops talking, seeming to be done with the conversation, but, as a last comment, he says, “you do need to learn fan etiquette if you’re coming to the balls, it will keep you safer,”  
Hermione, confused, decides not to ask any further, his short answers an obvious sign that he no longer wants to speak on the subject.  
This dance didn’t feel like an eternity as it had with Ron, but it did feel longer than it should. She turns to glance at the wall and there was a scowling Bellatrix, eyes now devoid of the humor they were filled within the refreshment room. This gaze was now cold.  
It’s nearing the end of the night and Luna and Ginny were talking by the seating area. She joins them in polite conversation, its quiet and nice. They drink more champagne, probably more than they should, but, she has no more dances left since there are only two left, one of which she doesn’t know the steps to, and the last one she saw no point in dancing to if she was going to be sitting right before it and end right after.  
“Have you met anyone?” Luna asks, the question is obviously aimed at her considering Ginny is married.  
“I beg your pardon, but what do you mean by that?” Is Hermione’s reply, she can feel dark eyes on her neck and it makes the hairs rise. But she refuses to turn around. That would be admitting defeat.  
“Have you met anyone you fancy, anyone dark and mysterious?” Luna teases, Hermione feels as if Luna can read her thoughts.  
“No, you know I’ve only come to meet Ron. And, not even he struck my fancy. I just don’t think there is a gentleman out there that could make me fall in love,” Hermione responds, stuttering over the beginning of her statement before it became more comfortable in her mouth.  
“She was only here to meet Ron, Luna, it wouldn’t be fair to expect her to find someone she fancies if she’s just going to marry my brother,” Ginny tells Luna with a smile on her face. She turns to Hermione.  
“You’ll make a wonderful sister-in-law. And, if for some reason you don’t marry my brother, we’ll be wonderful friends. I know this seems fast, but I do think we will get along famously. I’ll write you to join us for dinner one night,”  
Deciding to leave the ball slightly early to get home by three, she gathers her belongings from the coatroom, bids Ginny and Luna a good-night, and heads out. No one is with her and that’s a bad idea, but she should be able to get a carriage and pay him to take her to the bakery.  
The roads seemed to be empty and abandoned, not a soul to be seen. This wasn’t uncommon for this time of night. She decided to walk closer to the carriage station to see if there were any out nearer to it. Sadly, there were not, and no respectable person would go back to a ball after leaving. So, her only option was to walk home, alone, at half-past two.  
The night had become cool during the time they were at the ball and her thin cloak did little to fight off the chill of October air. It was a bad idea to come so ill-prepared for the possible cold, but it was warm earlier in the evening, so Hermione saw no particular harm in the cloak that she now wraps impossibly tighter around herself as she walks toward her street.  
She’s intercepted at a street corner by three men, none looking like polite company. They all seem drunk though the shortest, a towheaded man, seemed the drunkest. There was another, slightly taller than the first but a lot wider, and the last, a tall, thin man whose legs looked more like stilts than any normal legs. Both of these men have brown hair, though the shorter one’s was considerably darker than the others.  
“What do we have here?” says the tall one in a nasal voice.  
“Looks like a girl, all alone, coming home from the ball,” responds the towheaded one, obviously not bright enough to understand the question was rhetorical.  
“look,” the tallest one, clearly the leader, says, “give us your money and you might not get hurt,”  
“c’mon boss, we want some fun,” the second tallest says in an annoying, whiney voice.  
“Just get her money and jewelry and make sure she doesn’t run,” says the boss, obviously not amused with the other men.  
“Go on, take your pretty necklace off,” says the towheaded one, walking closer to Hermione, she backs away, trying to avoid contact. She reaches for her necklace and really hopes that someone is nearby. Her breathing is fast and yet she can’t seem to get any air into her lungs to scream.  
She goes to obey his command but a voice behind her stops all movement on the street corner.  
“I didn’t know there was a second party going on, why wasn’t I invited?” Hermione turns to see Bellatrix Lestrange, smirking.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione slides out of bed, head aching slightly from the numerous glasses of champagne she had last night. She trudges into the kitchen where her father is, already sitting at the table, reading the paper. She checks the time; its already past noon and lunch should have been on the table at half-past eleven.  
“I’m sorry, father, I stayed out too late,” Hermione apologizes, setting to work in the kitchen despite her head that now hurts even worse than when she woke up.  
“Don’t worry about it, Nan knew this would happen and she brought over some breakfast and lunch, thank her tomorrow when you go to work,” he goes back to reading his paper and sipping tea. He looks calm, Hermione is still slightly shaken by the half-remembered happenings of the night before.  
“How did that go, by the way, the ball, I mean?” her father asks, forcing her to remember more of the mess that was her first ball.  
Hermione recounts the scenes leading up to the end of the ball, the dances and the talking and the drinking all seemed good. After she tells him about this, she tells him that she left alone and how she got stopped on a street corner by three men. After that, things are considerably fuzzier, and she tries her best to remember. She can’t recall much and decides she’ll think on it and try to tell him more, later.  
She heads to her room, deciding she needs to get dressed and head out into town. The bookstore closes around three and she wants some time to go and browse.  
Sitting down at the vanity, she looks at her tired face and mussed hair from the night before. She reaches for her hairbrush to set about untangling it, but her hand grasps a thin tube a parchment rolled and held together by a signet ring with a raven on it. She pulls the expensive ring off the parchment and sets it gently on the vanity before unrolling it and reading.  
Miss Granger,  
You were quite inebriated last night, and I wanted to ensure you got home safe. I’ll write what happened from the time that I met you on the street to now, at half-past three. I’m writing this once I’ve finally gotten you ready for bed.  
I noticed you were heading out the door with no one else, I’m sure you understand what a bad idea that was and I’ll leave your father to lecture you about that. But, nevertheless, I followed you because I knew there would be trouble. The men were all drunk, probably leaving the pub a street over. They weren’t hard to get to go away, all you had to do was knock them off balance and they were on the ground for a good minute. Once we left them behind, you began thanking me profusely and stumbling over your own feet. Eventually, you decided to give up on walking altogether and tried to just sit against a building. I’ll spare you the embarrassment of that full story. Once I got you home, you just tried to go to bed. You couldn’t sleep in your dress and I didn’t want to wake your family. You were no help when it came to the matter of getting you undressed, you seemed to aim to make it harder. But, here I am, writing, neither of us has been hurt so I assume that is a triumph in itself. I’m going to need the ring back, I may write you but unless I do, we’ll likely have no contact for a while.  
Bellatrix Lestrange  
P.S. Learn fan etiquette if you’re going to be attending balls.  
That was the end of the letter, Hermione found herself blushing at the idea of her intoxicated self, acting like a child. She knows she won’t be drinking that much again, that’s for sure.  
She sets to work on her tangled mess of hair, still half up in the intricate bun it had been in, remnants of perfect papillon curls now falling around her face in disarray. She feels almost guilty, ruining such a pretty, time-consuming style, but it must be done. She pulls pin after pin out before it resembles something along the lines of neat. After she successfully gets her hair down, it’s time to put it back up. This time in a much less complicated braided bun that did not include curling with hot irons or an endless number of pins.  
Hermione dresses quickly in a simple, practical dress. The boots she wears, typically comfortable, make her feet ache. She knows it's from dancing all night and really isn’t the fault of the boots at all, but she needs something to blame her discomfort on besides herself. Before heading out, she slides the ring on her finger, thinking to herself that this is the only way to keep it safe. She quickly makes her way to the bookshop, knowing it will close soon. She really needs to find a book on fan etiquette, so far two people from the Black family have recommended it, and they’re the most powerful family in the city. It does seem to be an important skill and form of communication. She didn’t want another misunderstanding with the fan, like what happened in the refreshment room with Madam Lestrange.  
The bookstore smells of paper, both old and new. There are a few shops similar to this throughout the city. But this one is by far Hermione’s favorite. She doesn’t come here often, she doesn’t have the money for it, but she enjoys being near books and ink and the kindly old man who owns the shop is never in a bad mood and always eager to help.  
She walks through the rows of cluttered bookshelves, searching for a book on fan etiquette, preferably used so it's cheaper. She wishes that the man, whose name is Ollivander, would come out of nowhere and direct her right to where she could find the particular book she’s looking for. He has a strange way of knowing exactly where things are amongst the seemingly disorganized shelves.  
Almost like he’s read her mind, he comes around the corner carrying a pile of precariously stacked books. He carefully sets them down, asking what he could do to help her. She tells him what she’s looking for and she’s paying for the book quickly. She would stay longer to look around, but she doesn’t want to keep him here on a Sunday.  
She leaves the store while the peculiar man waves after her, telling her to come again soon. Most of the stores are closed on Sundays and the ones that aren’t are closing early. So, she heads home, opting to spend the rest of her day in the small library in her apartment, curled in her favorite armchair, threadbare and faded from the amount of time she’s spent in it. She buries her head in the book, doing her best to keep the night before pushed from her mind.  
The quiet of her reading is broken by a soft knock at the door. She straightens and invites her father in. He’s the only one who would be knocking or even here. He knows this is her favorite room in the house.  
“’Mione, you have a letter from Ginny Potter, she’s asking you to tea tomorrow, this must be a good sign for your future if the family of the man courting you is already being friendly. I do hope his mother doesn’t judge you too harshly,” he seems so gladdened by the news that Hermione decides not to tell him of the rest of what happened the night before, not wanting to worry him unnecessarily.  
“I need to find what to wear, I can’t wear my everyday dress. I can’t get an old dress altered this short notice and I definitely can’t wear the dress I wore last night,” Hermione worries, not wanting to look too far below the status of the Weasley family.  
“don’t worry, dear. I had a second dress made, this one less elaborate than your ballgown. It was meant to be a surprise for when you get engaged but I think it would be the only way to go to tea with Miss Potter,”  
Hermione is incredibly happy with this, she would rather have been surprised, but this means she doesn’t have to decline the invitation from someone she desperately wants to get to know.  
Her father gives her the dress, this one a burgundy color. The skirt was far more practical but still in a bell shape. It was overall a lovely dress. She thanked her father profusely for it and excitedly went through the rest of her day, making dinner quickly though she doesn’t eat much of it. She’s much too giddy. The same happens with sleep, she goes to bed on time but doesn’t fall asleep for what feels like hours.  
Hermione wakes, not very rested but much too excited to care. She makes breakfast but decides to eat it in the library while she practices with her fan. It’s not common for her to take her meals in the library but, her father doesn’t mind as long as they have dinner together. So, she sits, trying to eat or read or practice her fan enough to distract from the impending tea time. Strangely enough, she’s not anxious, she has never been invited to tea before, she’s never had friends that close.  
At three o’clock sharp, there was a red and gold carriage outside the bakery. Inside was Ginny, smiling warmly in a red dress with gold trim. Over that was a darker red, fur-lined short coat. They headed to the Weasley manor, no longer decorated for the ball. It was much less grand but still amazing. Ginny talks the whole time, about small things, about the ball. Hermione wonders if she should tell her about what happened but decides it’d be better not to tell her. She doesn’t want to worry her at all. They’re not close enough for that.  
Conversation over tea stays light, everyone in the Weasley family is busy so it’s just Hermione and Ginny sitting together at a small dining table, trays of cakes and sandwiches laid out on it. After tea, Ginny invites Hermione on a walk in the garden.  
“so, I noticed the ring on your finger and you weren’t wearing it at the ball. Did you just get it?” Ginny asks innocently. For some reason, this brings a flush to Hermione’s face, embarrassed at the fact that she’s wearing the signet ring of the noblest house in the city.  
“Oh, Bellatrix Lestrange walked me home and left it on my desk, it must have been accidental. I decided the safest place to keep it was with me, I didn’t want it lost,” the part about it being accidental is a lie, it was very much intentional. But Hermione didn’t want to recount the embarrassment of that night.  
“Well, you must return it, and I was meaning to invite you anyway. The Black family is hosting a Halloween masquerade and my family has been invited. I’m allowed to choose who I’d like to bring with me, so I choose you,” Ginny says, smiling, “don’t worry about clothes, we’ll go shopping. I don’t want to spoil a surprise, but there’s a dinner here where you and your father will be invited. Ron is likely going to propose to you there, and of course, you’ll need clothes for that,”  
Hermione is taken aback by this new information. It would make sense, but she assumed she had more time, more time to mentally prepare herself for the idea that she won’t be marrying someone she even remotely liked as a human being. She’s going to marry someone that would be impossible to get along with if the conversation at the ball had any bearing.  
“We have until Tuesday of next week to prepare for the dinner. The masquerade ball is the Saturday after that, on Halloween. We’ll be able to have ball gowns made, when do you want to go to the dressmaker?”  
They plan the times, deciding they’ll meet up in town tomorrow morning to get fitted for dresses. After that, the carriage takes Hermione back to the bakery with Ginny riding along. She was talking for a little bit before realizing Hermione was in her own world. Before Hermione can get out of the carriage, Ginny takes her hand with the ring on it, seemingly studying it,  
“don’t let the Black family get to you. They have a way of luring people in, be smart Hermione,” with that, Hermione steps out of the carriage and Ginny waves her goodbye. The words are turning over in Hermione’s head, she searches for the meaning behind them, knowing they mean more than they seem on the surface.  
The evening goes by quickly while Hermione practices with her fan, she's determined to have it down by the ball in a little over a week. She has looked through the book about ten times, the motion Madam Lestrange made did mean “kiss me,” but that made no sense. She must have been holding it mindlessly to her mouth and laughed when she realized the accident.  
When Hermione meets with Ginny, they decide to visit Ginny’s favorite dressmaker. A kind older woman with sample dresses set out unlike the other that had drawings for patterns instead. Getting measured is still new and uncomfortable to Hermione, but Ginny goes about it like she’s been doing it her whole life, which she has.  
The difference in upbringing is so strange. Ginny is much kinder than any higher-class woman Hermione has met before, but there are obviously some differences. Ginny is very used to getting what she wants without thinking about money. Everything Hermione and her father by, on the other hand, is carefully budgeted out to make sure they can make rent and buy food.  
Ginny chooses a dress with a large skirt, in red and gold brocade with gold thread trim. Ginny decided on Hermione’s dress but won’t tell her what it was, telling her it’s a surprise. Hermione can’t argue, Ginny is buying the dress after all. After the dresses for the masquerade are chosen, Ginny lets Hermione choose her dress for the dinner. This is a simple white and blue dress, the skirt considerably smaller than Ginny’s masquerade dress.  
The mask design is also kept a secret from Hermione. With Ginny claiming that it would give away the color scheme of her dress.  
Afterward, Ginny buys Hermione a pair of white boots to match the dress for the dinner party and they continue window shopping. They talk about nothing of importance, but the company is something Hermione enjoys and can definitely get used to. This would be an upside to the marriage, she would have a lovely friend as her sister-in-law. A sibling of sorts that she never had.  
When its time for them to part ways, Ginny hands Hermione a small wooden box with a bow wrapped around it.  
“This is for all the work you’ve been doing, trying to learn the fan. I hope you love it and use it often,”  
Hermione opens the box and finds a white silk fan hand painted with small birds and butterflies in pastel blues, yellows, and pinks. It’s a gorgeous fan, nicer than any she’d ever seen.  
“Thank you so much, but it’s not necessary, I can’t imagine how much it cost. I don’t want to take something so lovely from you,” Hermione says graciously, knowing she’d never have been able to buy a fan this intricate.  
“Don’t worry about it, you’re like a sister I’ve never had, I don’t mind giving you gifts, you give me a friend,” Ginny’s words are genuine and filled with love. Hermione thanks her and returns to the bakery where she helps Nan.  
Hermione feels bad, not being able to help Nan these past few days but she’s assured that it’s okay. She hates the fact that she’ll have to leave the bakery eventually. This has been her home for so long, the idea of not living right above this shop is more emotional than it should be to her. She makes up her mind that she’ll visit once a week.  
The rest of her week goes by normally, she’s had no reason to leave so she can stay and work with Nan. Then comes Sunday, Nan’s shop isn’t open, so she spends all of her time working on her fan. The new one is slightly different than the one that had been her mother’s, it’s slightly larger yet somehow more delicate. It’s not as easy to flick open but that’s to be expected of a new fan, it will stop being so stiff once it’s broken in.  
Then comes Monday, Ginny goes to pick up their dresses but won’t let Hermione tag along, not wanting her to see the ball gown on accident before it’s time. So, on Tuesday morning, Ginny is in Hermione’s apartment, getting her dressed even though the dinner isn’t for another eight hours. She insists Hermione must go with her to the manor for lunch and tea before dinner.  
Somehow, Ginny has managed to get Hermione to put makeup on. It's after lunch and they sit together in Ginny’s chambers. The makeup is light, it's not fashionable to wear heavy makeup. This is one of the many facts Hermione has been learning while Ginny rummages through her makeup.  
“I enjoy makeup, it covers the ugly freckles. I hate them. You though, your skin is smooth and flawless. You don’t really need makeup, you’re gorgeous as it is,” Ginny says, with a hint of unbecoming jealousy.  
“The freckles aren’t horrible, and your skin tone is perfect. You’re the most attractive of the Weasley family,” says Hermione with a small laugh.  
When the dinner preparations are made, and everything is being cooked. The entire Weasley family along with her father and Nan, who was invited as a mother figure, are gathered in the drawing-room. Hermione tries to be friendly with Ron, but he doesn’t stop talking long enough for her to get a word in. She doesn’t know how he has all of these wonderful siblings and he’s still the way he is. She tries not to think too badly of him, they’ll likely be married within the year.  
Over dinner, Miss Weasley asks her question after question, she’s kind and Hermione understands that she wants the best for her son.  
“you work in the bakery and your father is a clerk, correct?” Mrs. Weasley asks, seeming to be trying to put it straight in her head.  
“yes, madam,” is Hermione’s short yet polite response.  
“Well, what of your mother, you have your employer here as a stand-in for her. What is the reason for that?” the older woman asks, obviously trying to be gentle on the subject.  
“she passed in childbirth, so did the baby. I was nine at the time,” Hermione didn’t want to overshare and decided to keep her answer concise. Death is a touchy subject in any circle.  
“my condolences,” was Miss Weasley’s response, “it’s lovely that Madam Longbottom has taken you under her wing,” the conversation ends there.  
It ends because Ron stands. He makes his way to Hermione as she tries to swallow her heart back down into her chest. She’s not ready for this. She’s known him for less than two weeks. They’ve barely spoken. She doesn’t love him.  
She tries to slow her rapid breathing and heart rate but it’s no use. Time has seemed to slow down, and she glances around, looking for some form of escape she knows she won’t find.  
“Hermione, would you,” here it comes, “accompany me on a walk in the gardens?” Hermione doesn’t know if she should be ecstatic or nervous. She does know, however, that her heart has returned to its assigned seat and is no longer trying to escape through her throat.  
Mrs. Weasley and Nan accompany them, providing chaperones so they don’t do anything unseemly. Thankful for the buffer, Hermione accepts the invitation to walk with Ron. The two older women stay back, letting Hermione and Ron talk.  
“I know we don’t know each other incredibly well, so I planned this walk, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I would never put you under the pressure of answering a marriage proposal in front of our families. I hope that by the end of this walk, you will be comfortable enough with me to accept a marriage proposal,” this was surprisingly understanding of him, she assumes the change of heart stemmed from some conversation with Ginny, but it could have been because he genuinely cares. She decides then that she will do her very best to at least like the man.  
“thank you, for being so considerate,” Hermione says, avoiding the addition of any inflection in her voice, trying to keep him from reading anything into her words. Not that she thinks he’s intelligent enough to understand inflection, but that’s beside the point.  
The two walk through the gardens, talking about favorite flowers and colors. They talk about childhood memories and the differences between having six siblings and being an only child. She talks about the bakery and why she loves to work. All of these things help them to get to know each other and Hermione finds him to be much more likable than she first expected.  
“I love your sister, she’s so kind and has treated me like family even though I’ve known her for less than two weeks,” Hermione says, the topic of siblings having cropped up again when Ron brought up some of the silly things Fred and George did when they were younger.  
“she’s always wanted a sister. The other women that my brothers have married haven’t been willing to get so close. They’re all lovely women, but they’re different. They were raised to be cold, many of us were. The Black family is a prime example. Not a glimmer of warmth in their eyes,” he sighs, as if saddened, “you’re a refreshing change to her, you’ve not been raised to look down on others or gossip at the sight of anything unusual,” the depth that he speaks with surprises Hermione, she didn’t think him capable of this. The idea of marrying him is considerably easier to fathom. This is probably all rehearsed to get to her faster. He probably doesn’t care at all. But she knows she needs to try and be fond of him.  
“so, Hermione Granger,” he begins, reaching into his pocket, “we barely know each other, but I’m sure we’ll become friends. Would you marry me?” he pulls out a gold ring with a small cluster of diamonds, not her style but pretty nonetheless. She slips it on and stands there, having no idea what to do with herself now. She’s engaged, now what? There’s marriage, but that’s months away. She’s pulled out of her thoughts quickly when the people from inside all gather around to admire the ring. She can’t seem to focus. This isn’t exciting at all to her. She still wants to fall in love and yet the most that will ever be between her and Ron is friendship. There’s nothing she loves about the man.  
Ginny pulls her aside before she can get too overwhelmed. She feels like crying.  
“Are you alright Hermione?” she asks, genuinely concerned.  
“I just need time to process. I’ll be alright,”  
“I want you to know that I never thought I’d love my Harry. I was convinced I’d never be fond of him. He’s never good with words and he’s clumsy. But, he’s sweet and well-meaning. He does everything he can for me, you’ll learn to love Ron eventually. No one marries for love anyway,”  
Hermione appreciates the kind words but can’t accept the idea that she’s going to miss out on something she wants so desperately.  
The carriage ride home is a quiet one, Hermione stares out the window at the empty streets and tries to picture a happy future with Ron. Maybe the kids won’t have the unfortunate hair color or freckles. Her eyes drift to the signet ring on her other hand, feeling some strange emotion that she can’t seem to place. She’s so lost in thought that she doesn’t see the blur of black curls and taffeta disappearing around the corner of a building up ahead.


	3. Chapter 3

The days leading up to the masquerade ball have been filled with preparations, excitement, and Ginny. Now, Hermione stands in Ginny’s room, getting dressed for the ball. The dress is the same as Ginny’s. The masks were all the same, golden lion heads. The men have manes and the women don’t. they completely cover the face and have a gold-colored silk ribbon to fasten the masks on.  
“Most families use the animal on their crest, but weasels aren’t very flattering. We go with lions. The Black family wears raven masks with beaks. The Malfoy family wears half masks with golden snakes around the edges. The Lestrange family wears black cats but you won’t see Bellatrix Lestrange in that, she’s refused to give up anything to do with the Black house,” Ginny says, explaining the use of a lion instead of a weasel.  
The idea of going to a ball with all of the noble families is somehow more intimidating to Hermione with the knowledge that she’ll be attending as a member of one of those families. She has to be perfect or she’ll reflect badly on all of them. She wishes Ginny would have just told her earlier, so she could prepare better. But that is probably why she waited so long to tell her.  
“You look lovely,” Ginny says, picking up her fan and mask as they head out of the room.  
“Thank you,” is Hermione’s response, a nervous tremor to her voice.  
They make their way to the red and gold carriage that seats four. Hermione and Ginny sit on one bench and Ron and Harry sit opposite them. The doors close and Hermione finds herself uncomfortable in Ron’s presence despite their engagement. They have only exchanged a few words since that night and they were very formal. He hasn’t seemed to show an interest in a conversation, but Hermione isn’t upset by that, it was expected. They’ll most likely marry and ignore each other for the entirety of their marriage, which is completely okay with Hermione.  
Ron doesn’t utter a word throughout the entire carriage ride while Hermione stares at her hands, twisting the silver signet ring on her finger, determined to return it to its rightful owner tonight. The carriage stops abruptly in front of Black Manor. The building is much larger than that of the Weasley’s but, in true Black fashion, is much darker in color.  
Ron helps Hermione out of the carriage, but their eyes don’t meet and neither of them says a word besides Hermione’s muttered thank you. It’s not necessarily awkward, it's just cold. Hermione wonders if the warmth from the night of their engagement was all an act and what he could possibly gain from that. Unless he thought she wasn’t planning on saying no. None of this makes any sense but, there’s no going back now. Wedding preparations are already underway.  
Walking into the Black Manor is like entering a different world. It was colder than the Weasley Manor and the décor was much darker. The entry hall was a lot larger and the room the Ball is being held in is an actual ballroom with a refreshment room off to the side. There are no dance cards and the men have to walk up to women right before the dance begins. It adds a bit of mystery as to who’s asking who to dance.  
All four of them head up a back stairwell along with the rest of the noble families to be announced.  
The different houses are announced, along with their members, starting with houses that contain Black family members. First comes the Lestrange house, then the Tonks house, followed by the Malfoy house. After that, the Weasley house is announced. Each name is called, and the respective person walks down the stairs to join the rest of the attendants in the ballroom.  
“Ronald Weasley and his Fiancée, Hermione Granger,” the announcer calls as the two of them head down the stairs, Hermione’s hand in the crook of Ron’s arm.  
She quickly makes eye contact with Bellatrix Lestrange, who seems to be staring intently at her. when she notices though, the eldest Black sister looks away. When they make it to the bottom of the stairs, Hermione waits on Ginny and Harry to be announced while Ron disappears into the crowd. She finds a comfortable spot, out of eyesight of most people, in front of some plants hiding a corner. She feels odd in the Weasley colors. But, before her friends have made their way down the stairs, Narcissa Malfoy, the youngest Black sister, is in front of her. Hermione is a bit startled by the intimidating woman.  
“I apologize if I surprised you. I just saw you at the last ball and wanted to meet you then, but there was no time,” the older woman notices the ring on Hermione’s finger and takes her hand.  
“I see you’ve met Bella,” she says, turning Hermione’s hand over in hers, inspecting the ring. The casual touch sending shivers down her back.  
“Yes, she has,” says a voice behind Narcissa, slurring slightly. Narcissa gently lets go of Hermione’s hand, brushing her fingers over the inside of her wrist before breaking the contact. Hermione turns to face Bellatrix Lestrange directly, the scent of alcohol lingering slightly in the air around her. The smell isn’t bad though, it mixes nicely with her natural scent somehow.  
“Bella, I didn’t realize you two were already acquainted,” Narcissa says, her tone cool.  
“Of course we are, Cissy, have you smelled her?” the question confuses Hermione.  
“Let’s not have this conversation here,” Narcissa snaps before turning abruptly and walking off to join Lucius.  
“Madam Lestrange, how nice to see you,” Hermione says, turning her attention to the older woman.  
“Please, call me Bella, darling,” Bella says, moving behind the younger girl and leaning in, her lips almost touching Hermione’s neck. The pet name and close proximity make her slightly uncomfortable. Bellatrix pulls her back a step, the branches of the plants covering them.  
“I’ll call you Bella if you don’t call me darling,” says Hermione, trying to pull away without making it too obvious.  
“I think I’ll continue, and you’ll call me Bella anyway, darling,” the last word is said in a teasing manner, it makes Hermione slightly angry.  
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t,” Hermione says, trying her best to keep her tone level.  
“Fine, pet,” This time, Bella’s lips brush Hermione’s neck, making the hairs there stand on end.  
“There’s no winning with you, is there?” Hermione asks, trying to regain composure.  
“Right you are, pet,” the words are yet again breathed against Hermione’s neck.  
Hermione tries to step out from behind the plants, but Bellatrix keeps a firm grip on her.  
“You can’t get away from me so easily, pet,” Bellatrix inhales deeply, “you smell like vanilla,”  
“Yes, what of it?” this time, Hermione can’t keep her voice level, “it was my mother’s perfume and I wear it now,”  
“I love vanilla,” Bellatrix says, breathing in the scent yet again. Her tongue flicks over a small spot on Hermione’s neck, making her heart pound faster, “I wonder if you taste like it too,” this was barely audible, but the closeness made it possible for Hermione to hear it. It was startling, to say the least.  
“Excuse me?” Hermione asks, whipping her head around to look Bellatrix in the eyes. Bella pushes her against the wall, not hard though, and Hermione has to hold her neck at an uncomfortable angle to keep her face from pressing against the wall, Bellatrix turns Hermione’s head back toward the wall, her nose pushing slightly against Hermione’s cheek, giving it nowhere else to go except where Bella wants it, “What are you doing?” the question is asked with a wavering voice despite Hermione’s best efforts to keep her tone neutral. Bella’s hand snakes around her, brushing over Hermione’s breast resting right below it.  
“See all of these people? They’re different from you. You look different, act different, smell different,” with that, Bellatrix inhales, her nose brushing against Hermione’s ear, “but that’s okay, the fact that you’re different draws people to you. Good people, bad people, people of all types. This makes your uniqueness both a blessing and a curse, a strength and a weakness,”  
“If you’re drawn to me then,” Hermione begins, taking a deep breath and trying to regain some composure, “what type of person are you?”  
“Well that’s a matter of perspective, isn’t it, pet?” is Bella’s response, “I will say, most people find me to be bad because of my…” she pauses for a second, trying to think of the proper word, “peculiar tastes,” as she says this, her lips trail lightly over Hermione’s neck, leaving a small amount of lipstick in their wake.  
“Bellatrix Black,” a slightly angry voice says from the plants. Bella steps back, letting go of Hermione with a pout. Hermione steps away from the wall, rubbing her neck where Bella’s lips had been, trying to wipe away the contact.  
“Fancy seeing you here, Andromeda Tonks,” is Bella’s cheeky comment.  
“You saw me come down the stairs, Bellatrix, and you know better than this, go torment someone else,” Hermione turns to get a good look at the woman and is startled by the resemblance she has to Bella.  
“You’re no fun, Andy,” Bella whines.  
“You’ll get over it,” is Andy’s short response. She turns to Hermione.  
“I apologize for my sister, she’s drunk and doesn’t know how to control herself,” Andromeda says kindly, glancing at Bella in exasperation. She steps out of the corner with Hermione in tow.  
“Andy, I trapped her fair and square, give her back,” Bella says, glaring daggers and stomping her boot like an indignant child.  
“She’s a human, not a plaything, stop pouting,” the response is cold, a stark contrast from the warm tone she used to address Hermione.  
“They’re basically the same thing,” Bellatrix mutters under her breath.  
“Oh, before I forget,” Hermione says, sliding the ring off her finger and handing it to Bellatrix, “this belongs to you,”  
“Looks better on you, pet,” Bellatrix says, sliding it onto her finger.  
“Bellatrix,” the warning in Andromeda’s voice is obvious.  
Bella starts to walk away but stops behind Hermione, trailing her fingers across her neck and whispering “mine” before laughing and walking away. Andromeda shakes her head.  
“She’s such a child when she’s been drinking, she is typically more composed than that, I’m not sure what’s gotten into her,” her tone is already calmer.  
“Thank you very much, I don’t know what I’d have done if you didn’t help,” Hermione says, fully expecting Andromeda to tell her Bellatrix is harmless, but that doesn’t happen.  
“Try not to get yourself into another situation like that, I’m not saying it's your fault, but I might not be there to help next time. Not to mention, Bella isn’t always the most stable when she’s intoxicated,”  
Hermione follows Andy to the drink table set up on the other side of the ballroom, taking a glass of champagne and downing it way too quickly. In her mind, she knows she promised herself she wouldn’t get that drunk again, but does it count if she’s even more intoxicated?  
“Anyway, you should stay near me tonight, so I can make sure Bella doesn’t bother you again,” Andy says, picking up a glass of champagne and drinking from it with far more grace than Hermione did.  
As Andy and Hermione linger around the drink table, Bellatrix stares them down from the other side of the room, drinking heavily from an ornate pocket flask.  
“Miss Granger,” Hermione turns around to see a young man, around her age bowing slightly. “would you honor me with this next dance?” he seems nervous and unsure of himself and Hermione takes pity on him.  
“Of course,” she says, taking his hand and letting him lead her to the dance floor. Most people have their masks on and it reminds Hermione she needs to put hers on after this dance.  
The young man, Francis, is actually rather good at dancing, Hermione suspects that he’s poorer than her considering the worn look of his shoes and suit. But, that really doesn’t matter, Hermione is pretty sure she’ll never meet the boy again.  
Once the dance is over, Hermione makes her way to the drink table where she carelessly left her mask when she got a glass of champagne. Luckily, it’s still there and she puts it on, tying it in the back and making sure it's sitting right on her face. Andy joins her, wearing a plain blue half mask that she holds to her face with a stick. A raven mask is now covering only the top half of Bellatrix’s face, probably to provide better access to her flask. She’s making fan gestures, but Hermione is completely ignoring it and drinks more champagne than she should be. She’s dead set on having a good time tonight and refuses to let the older woman ruin it. Sadly, Bella notices and gets closer, staring down any man who even looks in Hermione’s direction. A few somewhat brave young men make their way over, most of them getting stopped by Bellatrix before they can quite get to Hermione. Hermione finds this whole ordeal very funny until one of them does slip through Bella’s seemingly impenetrable wall around Hermione.  
“May I have this dance?” he asks, extending a hand.  
“Actually, she’s taken for this dance,” Bellatrix says from behind the man. The look on his face when he turns to see Bella is hilarious and it takes all of Hermione’s will not to burst out laughing. After that brief moment, Hermione realizes that Bella is back, and she really doesn’t want to get into that same compromising position again.  
“Bellatrix, stop that,” Andy says, strolling over from the drink table, still holding the same glass of champagne from before. Hermione admires her self-control, not even holding the same glass she was five minutes ago. It’s too late to get the boy back for a dance though, he ran off almost immediately after he saw Bella.  
“Andy,” Bella whines, “you’re ruining my fun again,” but, she does walk off, pouting from the corner across the room.  
Andy sighs, standing by Hermione and downing the rest of her glass of champagne. As she goes to set the glass on a servant’s tray, she notices Ron heading over, and following him is Bellatrix.  
Hermione notices Ron but not Bella. He makes it to her and puts his arm around her, uncharacteristically friendly compared to the rest of the night.  
“Should we dance?” he asks, the smell of alcohol on his breath. Hermione knows exactly why he’s being friendlier, he’s drunk. She is too, she’s not judging him for that. She is, however, slightly upset that the only reason he’s speaking to her is that he’s drunk.  
“Now, is that appropriate?” says Bella, butting into the conversation before Hermione can get a word in yet again, “you two are barely engaged, we don’t want a scandal on our hands now do we?” she asks, tut-tutting at the contact. Once Ron removes his arm though, Bella’s replaces it from the opposite side, snaking farther around Hermione’s neck than she’s comfortable with and resting at her pulse.  
“Oh, hello, Madam Lestrange. I apologize if I’ve offended you,” he slurs out. The scowl on Bellatrix’s face when he says this seemingly going unnoticed by the intoxicated man.  
“Well, we shan’t let it happen again shall we?” Bellatrix asks, her voice now sounding almost completely sober and very scary.  
Andy at this point has given up, sipping from another glass of champagne and watching to make sure Bella doesn’t trap Hermione again. As long as they’re in front of people, it really doesn’t matter too much. Bella has wrapped herself around Hermione again, clinging to her like a second skin. Ron doesn’t seem to notice or at least doesn’t care, as he continues making drunken conversation with Hermione.  
Andy decides its best for her to take Hermione home with her, sure that she’ll get herself in trouble if she lets her go home with the Weasleys. Not that they’re bad people, they just aren’t too observant and don’t really know the dangers that lie in wait.  
Making to into the carriage is quite an ordeal. Hermione is acting like a grumpy toddler, Bellatrix is complaining, and Hermione of all people is siding with her.  
“Andy, you should let me go with you, you don’t want to leave me here do you?” she pouts, clinging to Hermione slightly less than she was before.  
“You have a carriage and I only have one guest bed, go home,”  
“My carriage went home,”  
“Well, isn’t your husband here, have him catch a carriage,”  
“He left”  
“Go home with Cissy,”  
“You know how Lucius hates me,”  
“No Bella,” Andy says, shutting the carriage door before she can argue more.  
The carriage ride home is quiet, Hermione is dozing with her head against the window and mumbling something incoherently. As the carriage approaches the house, Hermione stirs, looking out the window at the house. It’s small compared to the Black manor but very nice. Hermione stumbles out of the carriage with the help of the driver. The guest bedroom is located in the hall branching off the foyer.  
“Now, here’s the guest bedroom, make yourself comfortable. There’s a bathroom through that door and extra blankets and pillows in the closet. I’ll be back in the morning before breakfast with an old dress of my daughter’s,” Andy says, closing the door. Hermione begins undressing, it takes her a while, the large dress seems far too fragile in her drunk, fumbling hands.  
After the dress comes the corset, luckily this one comes with laces in the front, so she can easily take it off. Once she’s stripped to her chemise, she unmakes the bed, heading to the bathroom to try and wash the rest of the makeup off of her face. She towels her face off and walks back into the room, surprised to hear a knock at the door. She assumes its Andy. It’s the only logical explanation at this time of night. She opens the door and is greeted by a sly smile that does not, in fact, belong to Andy.  
“Don’t scream,” Bella says, pushing past Hermione into the room. “you thought I was done, didn’t you, pet?”  
“How did you even get here? I thought you said you had no way of getting home,”  
“I may have stretched the truth, a little white lie if you will,” is Bella’s response as she starts fumbling with her dress in a less-than-graceful way.  
“I need to get Andy then,” Hermione heads to the door, but Bella stops her, half-dressed.  
She backs her up toward the wall, each step making Hermione’s heart beat faster. This woman is unpredictable and dangerous, and she somehow got into the house.  
“How did you get in?”  
“I knew where the spare key was,” Bella pulls out a key, twirling it in her hand.  
“That means I definitely have to tell Andy, you broke in,”  
“No, you won’t tell Andy,” Bella pulls another key from her pocket and makes her way to the door, locking it and sliding the key into the pocket of her chemise, “because that’s the only way out, pet, and I have the key,”  
Bella then goes over to the closet, pulling out all of the blankets and an extra pillow, before flopping down in the middle of the bed. Hermione, knowing she needs to sleep too and refusing to sleep on the floor without even a blanket, walks over to the bed. She sits down on it and pushes Bella from the middle to the other side. It’s not an easy task as Bella is quite good at making herself dead weight. Hermione lays down and slides under the blankets that were originally on the bed. She puts up a pillow for a barrier and Bella moves it immediately. Hermione turns her back to Bella and tries to sleep as Bella wraps her arm around her and pulls her closer.  
Hermione doesn’t know how, or when, but she did finally get some sleep last night. She tries to sit up but realizes Bella is wrapped around her and holding on tightly, like a snake. There’s a knock on the door, it knocks a few times, but Hermione doesn’t want to call out and wake the sleeping beast. Finally, whoever’s out there walks away and comes back a minute later, sliding a key into the keyhole and opening the door.  
“Hermione, time to get up, breakfast is soon and how in the world did you get a k-“ Andy stops mid-sentence and looks at Hermione entangled with Bellatrix, “how?” is all she can get out.  
“She apparently knew where you kept a spare key,” Hermione answers, hoping to be helpful. The look on Andy’s face changes to anger as she lays the dress she’s holding down on a chair and picks a pillow up off the bed, swinging it at Bella to wake her up.  
“What?” Bella asks in a mixture of a whine and a mumble.  
“Get up and explain yourself,” Andy demands, hitting Bella yet again with the pillow.  
“I will at a reasonable hour, gosh,” Bella says, ripping the pillow from Andy’s hand and putting it over her face, disentangling Hermione in the process. Andy sighs, clearly defeated.  
She helps Hermione get dressed while Bella groans about how early it is like them being there is an inconvenience and not the other way around. Once Hermione is dressed, they head to the dining room, leaving Bella to sleep until after breakfast when Andy plans to yell at her.  
“Good morning Ted,” Andy says, kissing her husband on the cheek and sitting next to him at the table.  
A woman Hermione assumes is the cook pushes the door open and sets platters of food down, exchanging a few friendly words with Andy before heading back into the kitchen.  
“Morning,” Bella’s sleepy voice calls from the doorway.  
“I thought you were going back to sleep,” Andy says, anger lacing her voice.  
“I tried but you two woke me up too much,” Hermione turns to look at Bella and realizes that she’s taken off the rest of her clothes and is only wearing her chemise. The sight is shocking, she’s wearing underwear in front of a man.  
“Is that appropriate attire for breakfast Bellatrix?” Andy asks with a sigh.  
“It is when you’re woken up at an ungodly hour by your stuffy sister and told to leave,” she says, plopping down in the seat to the right of Hermione and reaching over her with her right hand as she sets her left on Hermione’s thigh.  
“Good morning Bella,” Ted says, trying to make polite conversation while Andy scowls at him.  
“Finally, someone who’s polite to me. Good morning,”  
“How did you sleep?” he asks, making polite conversation.  
“Well, enough, it would have been easier if I had the bed to myself,”  
“You-“ Hermione begins but is cut off.  
“Hush pet, the adults are talking,” Bella says, patting her leg, obviously trying to get a rise out of her.  
Hermione takes a deep breath, doing her best to keep calm as Bella reaches over her yet again for the butter, her hand still resting on her thigh. The entire breakfast is very quiet after Ted’s attempts at conversation were met with enough glares from Andy that he stopped.  
When everyone is finished eating, Andy stands and motions for Bella to follow her out of the room, Bella stands with a pout and looks back at Hermione.  
“Can I take my pet?” she asks, standing and laughing. Despite the question, she leaves the room before it’s answered.  
“I’ll get you a carriage pulled around,” Ted says, standing and exiting the room, leaving Hermione alone in the unfamiliar dining room.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione waves goodbye to the Tonks and Bella as she gets ready to get into the carriage. Their daughter, Nymphadora, and her husband, Remus, arrived shortly after Andy and Bella walked off to argue.  
“I can escort her home, Andy, she really shouldn’t be alone,” Bellatrix argues, trying to get to the carriage but being blocked by Andy.  
“I cannot begin to explain all of the reasons that would be a horrid idea,” Andy says, holding onto Bella’s arm to keep her from getting into the carriage.  
“Fine, but if she dies, that’s on you,” is Bella’s retort, crossing her arms and watching the carriage.  
“That’s enough,” Andy says, swatting Bella with her fan before turning to talk to Hermione, “I’ll write you today probably, we should schedule tea so we can talk,” Andy begins, and then she whispers, “without her,” she says, gesturing to Bella.  
The carriage driver opens the door for Hermione so she can step in and as soon as she does, the door is shut and the carriage is off. It quickly gets to the bakery and she’s inside her apartment in no time. Once she’s there, she sees her father sitting at the table, eating breakfast and reading a book. She greets him and hurries off to her bedroom, changing from the ill-fitting dress to one that’s comfortable.  
Most of her day is spent reading up on etiquette and social rules for the upper class in the library. She needs to present herself as a noblewoman if she’s going to marry Ron Weasley. Most of the rules restrict her and when she reads up on how to be a proper wife, she begins wishing she could just become a lonely spinster. The rules that will dictate her life very soon make the money involved have no meaning to her. Losing her freedom for pretty things and children isn’t even close to worth it. But she can’t go back, there’s no choice. There wasn’t even much of one to begin with, she wouldn’t be able to deal with disappointing her father.  
She will, however, continue being herself, she’ll read books and teach her children to. She wants them to be smart, not just go through life on their parents’ money. The idea of having children does scare Hermione, with her family history, it’s unlikely that all of her children will survive. And its completely possible that she’ll die in childbirth. When she was young, she declared that she didn’t want to have any children. Her father quickly told her she once she gets married. She doesn’t want to get married either, but she’d never tell him that. She’s his only child, and he wants the best for her.  
…  
When it’s time for dinner, she goes into the kitchen and begins cooking and her father joins her, sitting at the table and making conversation.  
“You’ve got a letter here from Andromeda Tonks. How do you know her?” He asks, picking it up from the table where he laid it down after he opened it.  
“I met her last night at the ball, why? I know her husband is a coworker of yours,”  
“Why didn’t you stay with the Weasleys last night?”  
“I didn’t want to go find them and Andromeda offered to let me stay in her guest bedroom,” Hermione says, getting defensive.  
“Just be careful,” her father sighs, “imagine if they had a son, you’d never hear the end of it. I love you Hermione but now everyone is watching to see if you’ll mess up. You need to be more responsible,” he seems worried, not disappointed, “anyway, she wants you to meet her for lunch tomorrow at the restaurant in town, the nicer one of the two,”  
“I’ll meet her there then,” Hermione says, putting the food on the table but barely eating anything.  
“Why don’t you eat, Hermione?” her father asks, attempting conversation.  
“Do you know anything about Bellatrix Lestrange?” Hermione asks out of the blue, obviously starling her father with the question.  
“Yes, I know of her,” He says, “why do you ask?”  
“Well, I saw her at the Weasley ball, and actually spoke to her last night,” Hermione says, leaving out the being pinned in a corner and sleeping in the same bed, she has a feeling that wouldn’t go over well, “I was just wondering what you know of her, if you’ve ever done business with her family. Besides the Tonks, of course,”  
“No, Hermione, I haven’t. Blacks keep to themselves. They’re a strange lot if you ask me,” with that, the conversation dies and dinner is continued in silence. Hermione excuses herself from the table early, making her way to her room to get ready for bed.  
…  
Hermione wakes up late, she stayed up reading and worrying herself about her upcoming marriage. She quickly gets up and gets dressed, doing some light cleaning before lunchtime. Her father is at work so there’s no cooking to worry about until this evening. She keeps herself busy, doing anything she can to avoid thinking about her future.  
She meets Andy at the restaurant around lunchtime, the business is decorated nicely but still maintains a cozy appearance. A waiter brings out menus and they order quickly; the menu is actually rather complicated. Hermione and her father have never gone to a restaurant, there was never excess money. So, Hermione ends up ordering the same thing Andy does. She hopes she did a good enough job of not giving away her confusion. But, Andy’s smirk says otherwise.  
“So, what I meant to talk to you about is actually my sister. She’s not an easy person to get along with, but I’m sure you already know that,” Andy begins, taking a sip of her tea, “Bella is strange in many ways, she’s not much for being social and if she is, she’s always drunk. It makes her a big nuisance to everyone else but to her, she’s having the time of her life. That’s why I can’t really stay angry at her, she’s unhappy and mad at the world. I’m not too sure why, but I know she hates her marriage to Rodolphus Lestrange. That’s why I use the name Black, by the way, she can’t stand anything to do with that man and she’s very proud of her family name. Anyway, I invited you here to talk about something mo-” Andy is cut off by a scream from the street. Naturally, everyone hurries out to see what’s going on but they’re pushed back by shopkeepers while the police arrive.  
Hermione is quickly swallowed by the crowd, trying to fight to keep up with Andy. Her pace and presence making it easier for her to cut through the crowd than Hermione. And it’s completely impossible for Hermione to walk behind Andy, the crowd closes in just as quickly as it parts. For Hermione though, she’s shoved in every direction, she can’t find any opening to get out.  
Andy doesn’t even stop to look, she just pulls Hermione from the crowd and toward her waiting carriage, muttering something that Hermione can’t quite make out due to the noise surrounding them. Once they’re in the carriage, Hermione feels like she can breathe again, and though it had felt like at least a few minutes in the crowd to her, it was most likely only thirty seconds, if even that.  
“Are you okay Hermione?” Andy asks, a look of genuine concern on her face.  
“Yes, I just need to catch my breath,” Hermione replies, “you were saying there was something else you wanted to talk about. What was it?”  
“Oh, nothing that matters right now. We have no idea what happened and it could be dangerous, we just need to get you home safe,” Andy says, quickly changing the subject.  
There’s no time wasted getting Hermione to the bakery, but she really wishes not to be left alone, the idea of someone getting attacked is fresh in her mind and will be tumbling around her head for the rest of the day at the very least. But, her father will be home around eight and he’ll most likely bring home a paper if the story was urgent enough to put into a paper and printed tonight. Hermione assures herself it can’t be so bad, but a sinking feeling in her gut makes her think otherwise.  
…  
Her father gets home with a paper in hand, Hermione’s fears were confirmed, it was definitely bad. Her dad hands her the paper, it’s a short and to the point single article describing all of the details police disclosed.  
Animal Attack in Downtown  
Earlier in the day, around half-past twelve, a scream was heard by nearby shopkeepers. Upon further investigation, the incident resulted in the death of a man, near the age of sixty, who sold second-hand clothing. The death was ruled an animal attack and residents of the area are advised to only venture int crowded sections of the city, and if they must go somewhere more remote, go in a group.  
And that’s all the article says, nothing more, no name, though Hermione knew the man and had bought clothes from him quite a few times, no information on the type of wound or thoughts on the animal type. The whole thing seemed rather vague but the police tend to be rather secretive when it comes to big stories, they don’t want to upset anyone with too much detail.  
Supper is quiet tonight, there’s very little conversation, Hermione can’t stop thinking of the animal attack and her father is only talkative when she is.  
Once the plates are cleared away, Hermione retires to her room, getting undressed and ready for bed. As she brushes her hair out at her vanity, she glances to her left, out the window and sees a figure. She steps closer to it, intending on locking it and drawing her curtains, but it sends her a playful wave and she relaxes immediately, it’s just Bella, though she must be wearing new boots or it could be the angle because she looks slightly taller. The green in her cloak is a strange contrast to her typical black. Hermione locks the window and draws the curtains anyway, just in case it isn’t Bella.  
…  
Hermione wakes in the morning to whispering in the kitchen. Her father should be at work but it sounds like his voice and a woman’s, too young to be Nan’s. As soon as she steps into the kitchen, the conversation stops. Andy and Nymphadora are sitting at the table, talking with her father, a newspaper laid open in front of them.  
“Hermione, love, I see you’re awake,” her father says, an obviously fake smile plastered across his face.  
“Good morning Father,” Hermione says, blinking sleep from her eyes, “is there a reason we have guests?”  
“I don’t mean to impose,” Andy begins, “but, there was-“ Hermione’s dad holds up his hand.  
“Please, let me explain, I want to be the one to tell her,” he says, “Hermione, there was another attack outside the bakery last night, this was on a boy who was carrying flowers. We don’t know if you knew him but, he was right below your window,”  
“Okay, but what does this have to do with me? You can’t possibly think I did it,” Hermione says while putting a kettle on to boil.  
“We’ve all agreed that it would be best that you didn’t stay here anymore,” was the quiet response, his voice pained.  
“What? I can’t leave. Where would I go? What about helping Nan in the bakery?”  
“Well, we were debating sending you to live with the Weasleys,” Hermione’s heart sank, she didn’t want to stay with them, “but that would bring gossip, you staying in your fiancé’s home would have everyone whispering,”  
“So, you’ll be staying with us,” Andy says, quiet excitement behind her otherwise level tone. Hermione breathes a sigh of relief at the fact that she won’t have to stay with the Weasleys.  
“You’ll need to head to your room and pack your things, you most likely won’t move back here, and Nan is hiring a new employee to help in the bakery. You’ll stay there until your marriage to Ron and then you’ll move to Weasley manor unless whatever creature is doing this is caught. You should spend the day downstairs since you’re leaving tomorrow morning, Nan and Neville will want to see you,” Her father says while Hermione finishes making the tea.  
She joins them at the table, taking her tea with only a little bit of sugar. Most of the conversation is half-hearted and boring, so Hermione finishes her tea quickly.  
Instead of staying in the kitchen after tea, Hermione goes back to her room to get dressed and packed. Once she has everything ready, she heads downstairs to the bakery where Nan and Neville are sitting and talking.  
“Are we not opening the bakery today?” Hermione asks, her hand stopped halfway to the hook where her apron hangs.  
“No, the police are outside, no one will come in. Not to mention, this may be the last time we see you for a little while,” Nan says sadly.  
“I can visit and we can have tea, it’s not like I’m going far away,” is Hermione’s confused response.  
“You’ll be busy with wedding preparations, dear. That will need a lot of your time,”  
“But, we can have tea whenever possible,” Neville adds in, trying to help and lighten the mood. Despite all of their best efforts, conversation fails and they’re left sitting in silence, picking at pastries. None of them know what to say, they’re not sure if they should say goodbye, or that they’ll see each other soon. No one is really sure how these next few months will go. It’s completely possible that there will no longer be a threat and Hermione can move back home. But it’s more likely that she will stay in the Tonks’ house until the wedding.  
“Well, I do need to bake, there’s a party a few streets over and they’ve ordered cakes,” Nan says, getting up from her chair with some difficulty. These past few years, Nan has gotten less mobile, but she still runs the bakery every day, excluding Sundays of course.  
“So, Hermione,” Neville begins, clearly upset, “I know you’re leaving and this will most likely be the last time I see you for a while. But please write, I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t get to hear from you. You’ve become such a common occurrence in my life, I couldn’t imagine it without you,”  
“It’s not like I’m leaving forever, I won’t be far either,” Hermione says, confused at the solemn goodbyes she’s been receiving.  
“You may not be going far away, but you most likely won’t come back to live here. It’s barely six months before your wedding,”  
“I can come back to visit,”  
“Do you really think that once you’re happily married to a rich man and you have more kids than his parents, you’ll have time to come visit your old friends?” Neville asks, bitterness creeping into his voice.  
“Of course, I’ll have time. And I’m sure you know better than anyone that Ron isn’t particularly my first choice for marriage. And you know I’d rather not have kids, not with the mess my mother went through,”  
“But you’ll still be busy,” he says, his voice and demeanor becoming smaller.  
“I’ll never be too busy for my family,” Hermione says, putting her hand on Neville’s arm to comfort him.  
They end up spending their time in the library, Neville writing a letter to Luna about the attacks. She’s spending time with her family in the country, but Neville has been writing to her regularly to keep her caught up on what has been happening. He works on the letter quietly while Hermione reads books. She can’t keep her mind from wandering, though. She’s absolutely terrified that she’ll end up a victim of one of these attacks. They always seem to happen near her. Then again, she could just be being silly, it’s very likely that more will happen if the animal hasn’t been caught. It was most likely just a coincidence that the first two happened when she was nearby.  
Nonetheless, the words swim on the page and the ones she can make out make absolutely no sense.  
“Hermione,” Neville startles her out of her daydreaming, “you’ve been staring at that same page for at least five minutes; are you alright?”  
“Oh,” Hermione says, flipping the page quickly, “yes, I’m alright, I’m just thinking too much,”  
“About what?”  
“I’ve been thinking,” she begins, “and I’m aware I may sound mad. But I was thinking that maybe the animal attacks have something to do with me,”  
“Why would they?”  
“They both happened very near me, and so maybe the animal wants me,”  
“You’ve definitely been thinking too much, just try to relax and read,” Neville glances at the book and takes it once he sees the title, “and don’t read about social rules, read something you enjoy,” he sets the book on the pile occupying slightly less than half of the desk. The library is overflowing but Hermione doesn’t mind. All of these books are important to her in some way, most were here when she moved in. She’s read every single one of them at least once.  
She picks up a book full of fairy tales, it was her favorite when she was a child and it shows by the tattered cover and yellowed pages. She still can’t concentrate though and Neville notices. He finishes his letter and moves to sit in the chair across from Hermione.  
“’Mione, there’s obviously more bothering you. We don’t have to talk about it, but we can talk,” Neville says, Hermione welcomes the distraction and they begin talking about completely mundane things. The normalcy in the face of these sudden changes is comforting to Hermione. They used to spend hours in the library, talking and reading together.  
…  
Evening has arrived quicker than Hermione would have liked, but it’s here and she’s watching her belongings get loaded onto the carriage.  
“Hermione,” her father says, motioning for her to step to the side so they can talk more privately, “there is more danger in this city than you know, I want you to be safe. Don’t go out alone and keep your windows and doors locked,”  
“I’m sure I’m safe, father,” Hermione says.  
“Of course you are,” he says, a half-smile on his sad face, “I have something for you,” he pulls out a silver necklace with a small cross pendant, “promise me you’ll wear this all the time, it will keep you safe,”  
“It’s just a necklace, but I’ll wear it if you want,” Hermione says, fastening the chain around her neck.  
Andy motions for Hermione to join her in the carriage. It’s pretty quiet during the ride. Hermione stares out the window and mindlessly plays with the cross pendant. Something in the dark catches her eye. A figure, the same one she saw last night, standing in an alley very close by. Now that she’s gotten a better look, she can tell its not Bella. It’s definitely too tall, and there seems to be a red glow from under the hood. It’s very faint but it is noticeable.  
She glances at Andy to see if she saw it, but she’s not looking out the window, she seems to be lost in thought. Hermione looks back but the alleyway is now empty.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione sits in the library, curled up on the window seat and having her afternoon tea. She’s been slightly upset by the attacks, there have been more near the bakery, so she can’t really go visit her family. On top of the attacks, the weather has been miserable. Cold and rainy, it’s been uncharacteristically warm for the time of year and Hermione foolishly hoped that it would stay that way.  
As she finishes her tea and the chapter of her book, she hears a conversation in the foyer. She can’t make out individual words, but she can tell it’s Andy and another woman.  
“These animal attacks are completely ruining everything,” Hermione hears Bella whine as they make their way to the library, her voice is much clearer now that she’s not drunk or groggy. It’s actually rather pleasant, “and look,” Bella says, gesturing to Hermione from the doorway, “it’s obviously scaring my poor little dove. If this animal isn’t taken care of soon, I don’t know what I’ll do,” she says, walking closer to Hermione, brushing hair off of her neck and resting her chin on her shoulder, “besides, they’re ruining my torment time with the commoners,” she pauses, “oops, I mean playtime,”  
“Bellatrix!” Andy exclaims, swatting her with her fan as Bella nips Hermione’s earlobe and laughs. The contact doesn’t really phase Hermione anymore, but this sends a shiver down her spine and makes blood rush to her face. She has a feeling this is exactly the reaction that Bella wants.  
“Has Bella come for a visit?” Hermione hears Ted call from the hallway. Thankfully, Bella steps back as Ted enters, putting a little bit of space between her and Hermione.  
“Yes, Ted, Bella is here,” Andy says, disappointment clear in her voice. She seemed to think that she could get Bella to go away before her husband noticed.  
“Is she staying for dinner?” Ted asks.  
“I wasn’t planning on it, but I think I will. Rodolphus won’t miss me,” Bella says.  
“Well, Remus and Nymphadora are visiting for dinner anyway, I’ll have the maid set six places at the table,” Andy says, turning toward the library door.  
…  
“Aunt Bella!” Hermione hears from the foyer, signaling the arrival of Nymphadora and Remus. She decides she should go join them in the sitting room before dinner.  
“Oh look, my sweet little pet has decided to join us,” Bella says, making Hermione turn slightly red. She goes to sit on the couch Andy is on, trying to avoid Bella.  
“Bella, you need to stop,” Andy says, sliding closer to Hermione protectively, Bella rolls her eyes at this and turns back to Nymphadora.  
Once dinner is ready, they head to the dining room, Bella makes sure she gets the seat next to Hermione despite Hermione’s best efforts to avoid her. The cook brings out the food and gives everyone a helping. Hermione does her best to remain small and avoid attention being brought to her. She doesn’t want to deal with Bella’s teasing.  
“When is the wedding?” Bella asks out of nowhere, the tone of her voice still playful, but there’s something else under it.  
“There’s been no specific date set. Why do you ask?” Hermione asks.  
“I just like to be kept up to date on the lives of my playthings is all,” Bella says, going back to her dinner as if she hadn’t just said that. Hermione chooses to ignore it, Bella just wants a rise out of her.  
Remus and Nymphadora strike up a friendly conversation, trying their best to get everyone to participate. It’s hard to get Bella to, every comment she makes is either moody or about Hermione, but most of the time it's both.  
Dessert brings more conversation, this one touching on the topic of the recent attacks. There have apparently been two more. Hermione hasn’t seen the papers, she’s been trying to avoid them and not think too much about the current situation in the city. Most of the attacks have been near shops, where a lot of people are. This makes the fact that the police can’t seem to catch the animal rather strange. You would think there would be at least one witness, but no one can seem to give a description.  
“Well, I think Remus and I will retire to the library for a drink while you ladies talk,” Ted says, standing. Remus follows his lead out of the room.  
“Hermione, your wedding isn’t far off, are you excited?” Nymphadora asks.  
“Well, I’m not really too sure how I feel, the courtship was short and the engagement happened so quickly, I’m just now getting used to the idea of marriage,” Hermione isn’t lying, well, not completely, it all happened far too quickly for her liking, but she knows exactly how she feels. She doesn’t want to get married yet, especially not to Ron. And she’s certainly not getting used to the idea of marriage, she refuses.  
“I know I was incredibly excited for my wedding, but I also know your circumstances are different than mine,”  
“I’m sure as I get to know him, I’ll become more anxious for the wedding,” as Hermione says this, she sees a sympathetic smile cross Nymphadora’s face.  
“Or,” Bella begins, “you’ll end up like me with a horrible husband who doesn’t give a damn about you or your whereabouts,”  
“Bella!” Andy says.  
“What? I’m just trying to warn her. All of you are telling her it won’t be as bad as she thinks when in reality, it could be even worse than she’s expecting. Don’t coddle her, she’s a grown woman for god’s sake,” Bella says, raising her voice slightly. The fact that she’s not drunk is still slightly strange to Hermione. She wonders how Bella would react to this situation if she had had that much brandy.  
After what feels like an eternity of awkward silence, Andy suggests they all go have some tea in the parlor, but all Hermione wants to do is go to her room and read. It would be rude to refuse after Andy has brought her into her home though. So, she finds herself, sitting in a comfortable chair with a cup of tea. She can’t seem to become interested in the conversation, so she stares out the window instead.  
Bella’s reflection in the glass catches her eyes, she’s pouring something from a hip flask into her tea. Hermione rolls her eyes, its likely alcohol, she was hoping Bella would stay sober. She almost likes Bella sober.  
Remus leaves the library with Ted, announcing to Nymphadora that he’s tired and would like to go home. Hermione breathes a sigh of relief. It’s not that she doesn’t enjoy spending time with this family. She’s just ready for bed. After goodbyes are said, Hermione says goodnight to Bella, Andy, and Ted. She gets to the guest room that she’ll be calling her own for quite some time and undresses. Once she’s only in her chemise and her hair is taken down, she blows out her oil lamps and curls up in the bed.  
…  
Around thirty minutes after Hermione finally starts to doze, there’s a light knock at the door. Hermione quickly lights the lamp on the bedside table and walks to the door to open it.  
Standing in the doorway, looking slightly disheveled, is Bella.  
“What do you want?” Hermione asks, aggravated and tired.  
“I just thought I’d come for a little visit,” Bella pushes past her for the closet, grabbing all the spare blankets and pillows and tossing them on the bed like she did the night of the masquerade ball. After the blankets are all situated, Bella undresses and crawls under them, laying in the middle of the bed. Hermione does her best to get comfortable. She’s not about to sleep in the chair or on the floor without even a blanket.  
Once Hermione gets part of her side back and can turn over to face away from Bella, she starts to doze. Bella wraps her arms around her, waking her up just a bit. But she quickly falls asleep to the smell of sandalwood, it’s much more pleasant than the harsh scent of alcohol that Hermione had been expecting. Bella had carried that scent with her when she slept in Hermione’s bed last.  
…  
There’s a knock at the door. Hermione opens her eyes as Andy walks in quietly and opens the curtains, letting light in. The sunlight rouses a very grumpy Bella from the nest of blankets and pillows. Hermione, who must have turned over in the night, tries to go back to sleep, burying her face in Bella’s arm to protect her eyes from the sunlight.  
“Bellatrix Black!” Andy yells, pulling the blankets off of both of them.  
“What? It’s too early for this,” Bella says, grumpiness apparent in her voice.  
“How did you get in here?”  
“I knocked,” Andy turns to Hermione.  
“You let her in?!”  
“I opened the door and she let herself in,” Hermione shrugs, finally sitting up.  
…  
The next week, this happens again. Bella knocks while she’s up reading. Hermione recognizes the knock and quickly heads to the door.  
“Bella, you can’t be here, Andy will be angry again. I don’t want to upset her. I’m a guest here,” Hermione says, blocking Bella’s way into the bedroom.  
“Don’t worry about it, you have my sister wrapped around your finger. She’d never throw you out,”  
“Well, it’s still incredibly rude of me to allow you to visit when she has already said she doesn’t want you to,”  
“You’re just making excuses now, pet,” Bella says, pushing past Hermione and going about the same routine she did the week before. She does leave room for Hermione on one side of the bed though.  
…  
When they wake up to Andy opening the curtains, the arguments are only half-hearted.  
Breakfast is slightly awkward, mostly because Bella refuses to get dressed yet again. But afterward, Bella leaves and Hermione spends the rest of the day in the library.  
…  
Three days later, Hermione hears the knock again and it’s the same routine. It doesn’t really change at all until one night the next week when Bella had been showing up every other night. She knocked, but before Hermione could get to the door, she let herself in. Andy has become used to it and only complains sometimes.  
…  
One night, Bella doesn’t knock, she just crawls into bed with Hermione while she’s half asleep. It’s not strange to Hermione anymore, it's actually quite comforting and she’s begun to rely on her presence to sleep on particularly hard nights.  
Since Hermione has gotten more comfortable with Bella’s presence, she doesn’t mind the casual touches. Whenever there are family dinners, Bella does her best to sit next to Hermione. It doesn’t faze her anymore though.  
One evening, when it’s just Hermione, Ted, and Andy, they sit down with her in the library to talk.  
“Hermione, dear,” Andy starts, her voice very motherly, “you aren’t aware of what Bella is capable of, you may think she’s harmless, but I assure you, she’s not,”  
“What do you mean?” Hermione asks, completely confused by the cause of this conversation.  
“We mean that you need to stop letting Bella into your room,” Andy says flatly.  
“I’ve told you, I’m not letting her in, she lets herself in,”  
“We’re trying to get her to stop, and we know this is no fault of yours, but please try and be more firm with her when she tries to visit,” Ted adds.  
“I’ll try, I don’t want you to think I’m inviting her though. You don’t want her in your home and that’s completely understandable,”  
“Thank you, Hermione,” Andy says, standing up from the couch she and Ted have been sitting on.  
Hermione goes back to her book as the two of them leave, but she can’t get the idea that there’s more to this family than she thought. The idea that Bella is dangerous leads her to think that maybe there’s crime in the family history. Whatever it is, she wonders if the Tonks’ are in on it. That wouldn’t make sense though, they seem to be trying their best to protect her.  
Eventually, Hermione falls asleep at the window seat with her head propped against the glass pane. Her dreams are filled with visions of the Black family as criminals, the sisters all brandishing terrifying weapons covered in blood.  
…  
Hermione wakes to the sound of rain pattering on the window, she looks around at all the books she had scattered the night before. Something seems off. She heads out of the library, a coppery smell filling her nose.  
Once she reaches the foyer, she realizes the source of the smell. There’s blood on the floor, but she can’t seem to find who or what the blood belongs to. She goes to run through the front door but slips, it’s still slightly warm. She tries to stand, but something snags her dress when she turns to see it, she wakes up.  
…  
Bella is sitting up beside her in the bed, watching her intently as Hermione jolts up.  
“What in the world are you doing here?” Hermione demands, still hyperventilating.  
“I’d take that personally, but my poor little pet is scared,”  
“How did I get to bed? I was in the library,”  
“I brought you in here and undressed you, I couldn’t have you sleeping in that wretched corset and I wasn’t about to leave you in the library in only your underwear,”  
“Oh, thank you then,” Hermione says, confused by the sudden kindness. That’s not to say Bella is typically unkind, it’s just that she tends to act in ways that benefit her.  
“Of course, pet,” Bella says, “now, I have to go before Andy shows up, I can’t deal with her yelling at me more. I know it looks like she has stopped caring, but that woman is anything but over my visits. I can’t go anywhere anymore without her questioning me,” and with that, Bella quietly dresses and leaves the room.  
Hermione debates going back to sleep, but she decides against it, opting instead to go to the parlor and get away from the rather overpowering smell of sandalwood. She would go to the library, but she doesn’t see herself getting over that dream anytime soon.  
…  
The day carries on as usual and Andy seems rather pleased that she didn’t find Bella in Hermione’s room this morning. This makes Hermione feel slightly guilty, but only slightly. She didn’t invite Bella in, she didn’t even open the door. She only woke up and she was there. She still didn’t want to tell Andy about it. The idea of breaking the strained trust Bella has in her is a scary thought. Especially after everyone has told her that Bella is completely unpredictable and not good company to keep.  
Lunch comes around and Hermione takes it in the parlor with Andy, who proposes an afternoon outing. Hermione, who’s eager to leave the house for the first time since she came, gladly agrees.  
Once Lunch is finished, Andy calls the carriage and they both head into town. This part is a bit higher-end than Hermione is used to. They go to a grocer instead of buying fruits from someone on the street. Everyone seems to know Andy and love her.  
“So, Hermione,” Andy says, eyeballing some expensive oranges, “I was thinking we should get you new sheets, no matter how hard the maid tries, she can’t seem to get the scent of sandalwood out of them.  
“I hardly see a reason for that,” Hermione says, hoping her voice doesn’t waver. If she were to say yes, Andy would know that Bella is still visiting on occasion.  
“Hmm,” is all Andy says.  
After the grocer, Andy stops at a small flower stall and buys a small bunch, muttering something about a dinner party. Then, Andy picks up a dress from the seamstress. There’s a large crowd again and Hermione barely notices Andy loop her arm into hers to keep Hermione from getting swallowed by the crowd.  
“Must be another attack,” Andy says, anger around the edges of her voice.  
“Really? Are they still as bad?” Hermione asks.  
“Worse, actually,”  
“So, I’m assuming I’m not going to be able to go home anytime soon,” Hermione sighs, looking in the window of a small bakery on the street.  
“I’m sorry, dear. Everyone is doing their best to make sure whatever is doing it gets caught. Now, all we can do is wait. There’s at least one new attack per day,” this sets Hermione’s mind off, she tries her best to push it out of her mind, but she can’t help but wonder if a victim could be Neville or Nan, or her father.  
…  
Remus and Nymphadora come for dinner again. Tonight, they play silly games and have fun. It’s meant to be a sort of family night and Hermione feels almost like a part of the family. A part of her wishes she could be doing this with her father, but she knows she’ll see him soon.  
Once everyone is exhausted from games, Hermione bids everyone goodnight and heads to her room. Tonight, Bella doesn’t come for a visit and the empty bed feels rather cold without her. She nods off reading, finally lulled to sleep by the scent of sandalwood still lingering on her sheets.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione wakes up in the night to someone standing over her bed she’s almost excited that Bella came back for a visit but she seems off. Before she can do anything, she’s back asleep.  
When her eyes open again, she goes to join Andy for breakfast, Ted is on a trip so she doesn’t bother getting dressed yet. Breakfast is normal, Bella has joined them but actually arrived this morning instead of staying in Hermione’s bed.  
Hermione excuses herself from the table to go get dressed, she doesn’t see a point in sitting around in her chemise all day. Bella follows her to the room and Hermione can feel the disapproving stare of Andy, but she knows it's not directed at her.  
“I’m trying to get dressed, do you mind?” Hermione says, stopping in front of her closed door.  
“No, that won’t bother me at all,” Bella says, pushing past Hermione and opening the door. She stops suddenly, “Who was in your room, it smells like a man in here.”  
“Uh, no one. I thought you were in here last night but I guess that was just a dream.”   
Bella turns to Hermione, “and what’s that on your neck, has that not been hurting?”  
Hermione raises her hand to her neck and sure enough, there are two raised bumps there.  
“What is that?” She asks, rushing to her vanity.  
“That, my dear is a bite.” The matter-of-fact tone in Bella’s voice makes Hermione uneasy.  
Hermione sets her hand down on the vanity, feeling something cool under her hand. She picks it up and it’s a signet ring, much like the one Bella left with her but this once has a jackal on it.  
“What’s this?” Hermione turns to Bella, holding the ring out for her to examine.  
“That would be a house crest but I don’t recognize the design, I’ll ask Andy, come with me.”   
“I still need to get dressed,”  
“I am not letting you out of my sight,”

After a lot of arguing amongst the Black sisters, they reach a conclusion, Hermione will go and live with Bella and Rodolphus until her wedding.  
“Hermione, are you alright with this?” Andy asks.  
“Yes, I know you are just trying to keep me safe. Bella doesn’t scare me and I know you’re doing everything you can to protect me. Thank you for this, by the way.”  
“Don’t worry about it, I’m very protective of people who can’t protect themselves. This is a dangerous city for people who don’t know it well.”  
“Can you tell me what’s so dangerous? Everything you say seems so ominous but you never give me a straight answer.”  
“I’m sorry, I can’t right now, you’ll find out in time, and when you do, you’ll realize why we kept it from you,” Andy says, obviously trying to end that conversation.  
Hermione is silent, annoyed at yet another half-answer.

Dinner time comes and goes without any incident, Bella sits beside Hermione and her presence is oddly comforting. She’s not as touchy as usual and Hermione finds herself missing it a bit. Andy must have talked to her about it.  
Hermione escapes to her room after dinner. She wants to get as much packing done as possible, not that she has much to pack. Bella stays in the room, watching out the window while Hermione works, not even offering to help.  
By the time nine o’clock rolls around, Hermione is done packing and she finds herself hugging Andy goodbye as the carriage rolls around to the front of the house. This isn’t nearly as ornate as the other carriages, probably for the sake of secrecy.  
The Lestrange house is farther out of the city. It’s an old manor built from stone, it doesn't look nearly as welcoming as the Tonks house and suddenly, Hermione understands why Bella doesn’t seem to want to go home.  
Bella leads Hermione up a staircase to a room that’s decorated nicely, but it is clearly untouched.   
“I hope you don’t mind staying in my room, none of the others are currently habitable,” Bella says, sitting down in a chair. Hermione can’t tell if its the lighting or the house that seems to have drained the color from the older woman’s face.   
“That’s fine, but why aren’t they habitable?” Hermione says, she figures if Bella is forgoing the usual pleasantries, she can too.  
“We don’t keep maids. I do have one who comes and cooks and cleans if I have to stay here for an extended period of time. There just isn’t any need for them most of the time, Mr. Lestrange is always away on business so the house stays mostly uninhabited.”  
“I’m assuming it's pointless to ask what’s going on,” Hermione says, almost hopeful that Bella will decide to tell her.  
”Just go to bed, pet, I’ll tell you in the morning.”  
Hermione starts to turn down the bedclothes before getting undressed, carefully hanging her dress in the wardrobe next to Bella’s clothes and tries to ignore Bella’s presence behind her. Suddenly, Bella has her arms around her waist and her head at Hermione’s neck. Hermione feels something warm and wet on her neck.  
“Um, Bella,” Hermione begins.  
“Hmm?” Hermione feels the sound vibrate against her neck and she almost jumps.  
“What are you doing?”  
“I’m removing the mark of someone else off of what’s rightfully mine. I’ll explain better in the morning.”   
Hermione lifts her hand up to where the bite mark was, and sure enough, it’s gone. She turns to see a triumphant grin on Bella’s face.  
She crawls into bed and notices Bella isn’t joining her.  
“Don’t you need to sleep too,” Hermione asks.  
“I need to keep an eye and ear out in case someone followed us, besides, I figured I may have scared you off with what I just did” Bella says, that catlike grin still splitting the almost angry face she’d been making all day, “but, I don’t think a little bit of a nap would hurt.”  
Bella crawls into bed with her and Hermione nestles into her, the sandalwood scent lulling her to sleep yet again.

Morning brings about a much-needed discussion between Hermione and Bella.  
”So, tell me what’s going on,” Hermione says.  
“Well,” Bella begins, “I think it's best to start from the beginning. All of the wealthy families are monsters, in a sense. We drink the blood of mortals to stay alive. A good vampire gets consent from their food source, as mortals are necessary to our continued survival,”  
“Hold on, you said ‘our’ as in, you’re also one?”  
“Yes, Hermione. I’d appreciate it if you keep your questions until the end. Anyway, there are some of us that believe that mortals shouldn’t have a say in whether they give up their blood. That’s what attacked you, not an animal. Whoever it is, made themselves a crest, probably a small vampiric bloodline that’s less well-known. Most of the time, vampires are not made but born. The ritual to make us is incredibly complicated and risky, most vampires would never attempt to turn a mortal. This brings us to you. You’re being targeted for your blood. You’re part of an ancient bloodline, not of vampires, but of powerful witches. Turning one of your bloodline into a vampire would not only give you access to the gifts your ancestors locked away, but also make you the most powerful vampire in existence. That’s why the one who attacked you last night didn’t kill you, they want you for something.  
“Another rule us vampires live by is that of laying claim to our food source. Vampires are very traditional and territorial. When you put the ring that I left on your vanity on your finger, you became mine. Whoever fed on you disobeyed an ancient law. That’s why I was able to heal your bite, it isn’t meant to be there.”  
“You what?!” Hermione exclaims, “I do not belong to anyone and I am no one’s food source!”  
“Calm down, pet, I was hoping it would protect you from the other vampires, you can’t smell your blood but we can. Your scent is a giant beacon to you. That’s also why I’ve been staying in your bed, you’ll smell like me, not you. Now, do you have any questions?”  
“I have quite a few but none that I can really string into words right now, if you’re being honest, thank you for protecting me.”

After breakfast, Hermione and Bella go to meet Ginny for some wedding planning. They decide on a red and gold theme in the cathedral with the date being set for two weeks from tomorrow. The wedding ceremony itself will be small, with a large party afterward. Hermione likes the idea of a small wedding with only family. But the thought of Bella not being at her wedding makes her nervous for some reason, so the fact that it will only be family is both good and bad. Ron isn’t there, he’s been spending time with Harry before the wedding. Mr and Mrs.Weasley join Hermione, Bella, and Ginny for lunch. All of the other Weasley children are out doing their own things but Hermione doesn’t mind them not being there. More people would likely be overwhelming.  
the hardest part is probably the dress, There are specific styles that are pretty common but Hermione doesn’t find herself liking any of them. Ginny assures her that once she tries them on, she’ll like them but Hermione doesn’t think it's the dresses, but actually the fact that she is going to get married in just two weeks.  
Bella stays quiet throughout most of the wedding planning, mostly just trying to keep an eye out for any attackers. Ginny barely seems to notice Bella’s presence but Hermione’s mind is elsewhere the entire time. It’s a lot to process. She tries to pay attention to Ginny until it's time to leave. The place where the bite was on her neck is starting to burn, when Bella notices Hermione rubbing her neck, she announces that it is time to leave.   
She instructs the carriage driver to take as long as possible to get to the manor as well as take all of the wrong turns he could. He has a confused look on his face but listens anyway. When they finally get back to the manor, Bella flops onto a couch in the parlor as soon as they get inside.  
“I forgot how much I hate the Weasleys.” She says with a big sigh.  
“Why do you hate them?” Hermione asks.  
”They used to be vampires as well, they did a few things that were considered unforgivable, now they’re mortals, you can tell they’re still bitter about it.”  
“Ginny doesn’t seem bothered,” Hermione sits down on the couch beside Bella, glad to be back in a place where she can talk more freely.  
“She was never a vampire, only Arthur and Molly were ever vampires, the kids don’t know.”  
“What did they do?” Hermione asks, leaning in, she's marrying into that family and thinks she should know what she’s getting into.  
“Well, sometimes, vampires will have mortal babies, it's not common, but when they do, they’re advised to give the baby to mortals who cannot have children. But the Weasleys decided to keep the child. This in and of itself was not unforgivable, but they then tried to turn the child into a vampire. They really just wanted their child to be with them forever but the ritual is incredibly dangerous for both sides, and it's especially dangerous for a child. The ritual failed and the boy survived but only within an inch of his life and their vampirism was taken so they couldn’t do it again.”  
Hermione sits silently, mulling over what she just heard. Today is just an information overload. It’s all very overwhelming and Bella can tell today is getting to her.   
“Do you happen to have a library?” Hermione asks.   
Bella laughs at this, “Of course I do, pet.” She stands up and grabs a lamp from the side table, lighting it.  
“There’s not been anyone in there in quite a while, there’s no telling if those lamps will light,” Bella says, gesturing for Hermione to follow her. The library is bigger than any Hermione has ever seen. Bella sits in a chair as Hermione carries the lamp to look at all of the books. She finds a few books and goes to sit in the chair beside Bella’s, setting the lamp and stack of books on the table between them.

Hermione wakes up in Bella’s bed again. Bella is in the chair by the window, looking like she hasn’t slept at all. Hermione has noticed her mood hasn’t been the same since they got here. This manor obviously drains Bella and Hermione has decided to do something about it.  
“We should go for a walk in the city,” she says, knowing Bella may decide it's too dangerous.  
“That’s not a good idea, pet, you know the city is a dangerous place for you to be.”  
“This house is an awful place for you to be, the last thing I want is to make you stay where you don’t want to be. Besides, you’ll keep me safe.”  
“Nonsense, I’m perfectly fine here, besides it’s only for two weeks, then you’re the responsibility of the Weasleys,” Bella jokes, “but, if you really think I need out, I’ll listen to you. Let’s eat and then we’ll head out.”

Hermione is happily chattering as they head toward her old street, she talked Bella into letting her visit her father. The store still smells as sweet and brings back happy memories, but it also makes her miss home. She gives Neville and Nan each a quick up before rushing up the stairs, knowing her father will be in his room. She knocks on his door and he opens it.  
“‘Mione, what a surprise!” He says happily, hugging her tightly, “how have you been enjoying life with the Tonks?”  
“Well,” Hermione begins, “I figured they’d tell you, but I was attacked, they moved me to live with Bellatrix.” His facial expression drops and his eyes move to behind Hermione.  
“Why didn’t they send you back here?” He asks, the question more aimed at Bella than at Hermione.  
“We thought she’d be safer with me.” Bella’s voice is level but Hermione can sense the defensiveness behind it. She wonders if her dad knows about what the black family is.  
“Father, please. I came to ask if you wanted to come to lunch with us.” Hermione says, trying her best to smooth whatever is going on over.  
“I’m sorry Hermione, but I think you should just stay here and let me keep you safe.”  
“That is not happening.” Before Hermione can stop it, an argument breaks out between the two of them. She lets them argue for about a minute before she decides to cut in.  
“SHUT UP! I AM NOT A CHILD, NOR AM I AN OBJECT.” both of them turn to look at the brunette, “will you two please be civil.”  
“But-” Bella starts, Hermione holds up her hand.  
”Father, I love you, but you know you can’t protect me as they can and I’m tired of everyone talking over me as if I have absolutely no say in where I end up. I know you just want me to be safe but neither of you have asked me what I want. And frankly, I’d rather stay with Bella. I don’t want to come home just to leave again. So, whether or not you think I should be here doesn’t matter, I’m staying with Bella until my wedding.” Hermione finds herself shaking, she’s never raised her voice like that and the surprise is obvious on their faces.  
“Okay, you’re right, ‘Mione, I’m sorry.” Her father says.  
Bella just hangs her head and Hermione almost feels guilty. She’s never seen Bella look like that. She takes a deep breath and heads toward the door. She just wants out of there.  
When she and Bella make it to the street, Hermione turns to her, “look, I’m sorry for raising my voice. I shouldn’t have reacted like that. Thank you so much for protecting me.”  
“No, pet, it should be me apologizing, you’re right. I have been trying to protect you, but I haven’t taken into account what you want. Like claiming you without your consent, I never had any intention of feeding on you without permission, but you should have known what putting that ring on would do. For that, I’m sorry and I hope you can find it in you to forgive me.” Bella says, fiddling with the ring on her finger.  
“I forgive you, Bella. There’s very little you could do that I wouldn’t forgive.”  
“Oh, I’m sure I could think of a few,”

When they get back to the manor, Bella is still looking worse for wear.  
“Why do you look so sick?” Hermione asks.  
“I haven’t had time to hunt and blood only stays fresh for about a day,” Bella responds, gesturing to her hip flask. Hermione stays silent for a few moments.  
“Drink from me.” She says, her voice wavering only slightly.   
Bella laughs, “I can’t ask you to do that for me, pet, a full drink is definitely exhausting for the victim.”  
“Then I’ll sleep after. How are you to protect me if you aren’t at full strength?”  
“You’re not going to give this up, are you?” She asks.  
“No, I won’t,” Hermione huffs, crossing her arms and trying to look brave, knowing that it's very likely Bella can see her trembling.  
“Well, you should probably go get ready for bed, it's possible that you’ll pass out after.”  
Hermione takes a deep breath and heads up to the bedroom. Undressing quickly and hanging her dress a little less neatly than she had before. She’s shaking too much to care about being neat. She sits down on the edge of the bed and Bella sits behind her, brushing her hair off of her neck.  
“Don’t tell me you’re about to do it, just do it,” Hermione says. Bella listens and just sinks her teeth in, it hurts at first but then the sensation in almost pleasant. She feels Bella’s teeth leave her neck and feels her start to lick it to heal it.  
“Leave it,” Hermione says, curling up on the bed and drifting off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

It’s a week before the wedding now and preparations are being finalized. How they put a wedding together so fast, Hermione will never know. It still hasn’t sunk in that she’ll be getting married. It’s all so surreal. They’ve found her dress, it's the most tolerable of all of the styles and it’s white with gold accents. The more the days creep by, Hermione finds herself in Bella’s library more and more. Bella still stays by her side constantly and has for the past week. It’s nice to have company that you can speak freely around. There are no tense formalities as Hermione tries to gauge if she’s somehow offended anyone.  
Yet another visit from the Weasleys has just ended and Hermione finds herself exhausted. Bella insisted that the city isn’t safe enough anymore and that the Weasleys will just have to visit them for the wedding preparations. Though, Hermione senses that part of it is Bella just wanting to mess with the Weasleys. Every time there are preparations, Bella stays quiet.   
“I’m going to miss staying here when I get married,” Hermione says, sitting down on the couch in the library.  
“Why, pet, this place is so cold. It’s no place for anyone who doesn’t want the life drained from them.”  
“I don’t mean staying here, it's more that I’m going to miss you,” Hermione says.  
”I’m flattered, pet, but you can’t just live with my husband and me all your life, no matter how much I’d love that. Besides, I promise you’d regret not marrying.”  
“How do you know? You’re miserable.” Hermione is a bit more defensive than she should be.  
“You’re right, my marriage is hardly an example of domestic bliss. But however much I’d love to remarry, this time for love, I would never do that to Rodolphus. vampires tend to stay stuck in marriages to other vampires,” Bella is sitting beside Hermione and leaning on the arm of the couch. These have been Hermione’s favorite times staying here with Bella, the moments when her guard is down and she’s almost relaxed. The younger girl picks up a book she’d been reading and stretches out on the couch, laying her head in the other woman’s lap. Bella strokes Hermione’s hair as she reads.  
Hermione and Bella both jump at the sound of a slamming door somewhere in the manor. They had been dozing on the couch. Bella stands.  
“Sounds like Rod is home, you stay here, I’ll go tell him I’m here.” Bella walks off, leaving Hermione alone for the first time in a week. She decides to continue reading, seeing as there’s not much else she can do.  
A few minutes pass and she hears footsteps heading toward the library. Bella walks in but Rodolphus is nowhere to be seen.  
“He’s only here long enough to get paperwork from his office. He’ll be leaving in a few minutes.” The look of relief on Bella’s face doesn’t go unnoticed. The door slams again and this time Bella sighs as if letting out a breath she's been holding this whole time.

The next four days blur by, all that’s left is food preparation and decorating for the wedding. Most of which Hermione can’t participate in from the Lestrange manor. Not much has been happening. The two of them have been trying to keep busy with games and reading and baking. Bella has never been one to cook and watching her struggle was almost endearing. Bella continues to feed on Hermione every other day since she can’t hunt. Hermione doesn’t mind it at all, which is something she tried to hide from Bella, but of course, Bella found out.  
There’s a knock at the door and both of them make their way to the parlor. Bella is about to answer the door but turns back to Hermione.  
“Come here, pet.” She says. Hermione listens, making her way over to Bella.  
“You may like that being there, but I don’t think your future in-laws will.” She pulls Hermione closer and licks her bite wound, healing it. Hermione’s face is beet red when Bella opens the door and she tries her hardest not to look flustered.   
The whole Weasley family is there besides Ron. They all look incredibly solemn.  
“We were going to send a messenger, but we thought you’d rather have the news from us,” Mrs. Weasley says, stepping into the foyer, “Ronald was found dead this morning, it was another animal attack.” The tears is Mrs. Weasley’s eyes made Hermione feel for her. Bella turns on her best host voice and offers tea to the Weasleys but they politely decline. Saying they need to cancel wedding plans. Ginny pulls Bella to the side, whispering to her as Hermione talks with the rest of the family. The whole ordeal is a blur and before Hermione knows it, the whole family has left.  
Nearly as soon as the door closes, Bella’s demeanor changes, “Those fucking snakes!” She yells. Hermione is startled by the sudden outburst.  
“Bella, what are you talking about?” She asks, suddenly understanding why people tell her she’s dangerous. The wild look in her eye is almost murderous. Instead of reacting in fear and backing away, Hermione steps closer, wanting to calm Bella down. Calming her down isn’t hard, she just wraps her arms around her waist and pulls her into a hug. The contact confuses Bella long enough to realize how worked up she is. Typically, she’s the one initiating any contact, it's a nice change. A chuckle leaves Bella’s lips, vibrating in her chest, Hermione feels it as Bella pulls away to look at her.   
“You’re very cute, pet. Thank you for calming me down.” Bella says, there’s still an angry edge to her voice. “Your friend just told me some interesting news about that family. They were going to hand you over to a vampire in exchange for the whole family becoming vampires.”  
“So if this vampire wants me, why did it kill Ron?”  
“Well, it seems that there are two sides fighting over you. I did find it odd that a family of such status would let their son marry someone so below them, no offense of course.” Bella says, “However, this means that the town is much more dangerous than we thought, and I’m going to have to find a witch.”   
Before Hermione can say anything, a very angry Rodolphus slams the door open. “YOU’VE BEEN HIDING HER HERE THIS ENTIRE TIME!?” He booms.  
“Welcome home, love,” Bella says, her voice dripping with sarcasm.  
“You vile woman, you’ve ruined my chances at ruling alongside Tom, you’re lucky I don’t kill you both right now. But I need the girl alive and I’ll let you live if you let me take her with no trouble.”  
“Ah ah ah, love. You know I’m much more powerful than you. I’d hate to take your head off in front of the girl, but I will if you don’t get out of here.” The mixture of anger and calm in her voice is terrifying to Hermione. Rodolphus doesn’t have time to make his decision because Bella lunges and actually rips his head off. There’s no blood, just a scream.  
”Help me get the body, pet, we need to burn it,” Bella says, as casually as if she’d been asking for help serving tea.  
“Y-you just killed him,” Hermione says, shaking.  
“He would’ve done much worse to you had I not. Don’t worry about it, his existence was miserable anyway.” Despite Bella’s comforting tone, Hermione wants nothing more than to run away. This woman is crazy, she shows no remorse for killing another living being.  
“I want to go to Andy’s,” Hermione blurts out, not really thinking.  
“Fine, let me burn the body, then we’ll go.”  
“I can ride in a carriage on my own, thank you,” Bella calls the carriage over and Hermione climbs in, just wanting to get out of there.  
The carriage ride is silent as Hermione tries to stop her hands from shaking. She just wants to get lost in some books and not think about what just happened, or any of this.  
When she makes it to the Tonks’ house, she says her hellos and then beelines for the library. Somewhere she can hide from the outside world. It’s not long before she hears Bella arrive. The conversation starts at a normal volume, hard for Hermione to hear through the walls, especially since she’s not trying. It gradually gets louder and she tries to tune it out as much as possible. Andy seems to be furious at Bella.  
There’s a knock at the library door and Hermione stands, trying to regain her composure, just now realizing she had tears rolling down her face. Andy comes in with Bella following sheepishly behind her.  
“Hermione,” Bella begins, “I’m sorry I scared you, I didn't take you into consideration and for that I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me and not fear me for what I did.” Despite the fact that it was likely Andy made her apologize, she sounded sincere.  
Hermione can’t think of a way to respond, she just looks back and forth between the two sisters, hoping something would come to mind, a clever snipe or even a thank you, but Hermione can't trust herself to speak without letting out a strange squeaking noise. So instead, she just nods. She immediately regrets it as she watches Bella’s face fall. Something about making the older woman sad hurts Hermione. But she can't help that she’s scared. If Bella can do that, without thinking, to her husband. Why wouldn’t she do it to a mortal who’s quickly becoming more trouble than she’s worth?  
“Give her time, Bella,” Andy whispers, leading her out of the library.

Hermione wakes up in Andy’s house, she’s confused for half a second before she remembers what happened. She almost regrets not accepting Bella’s apology, there’s no scent of sandalwood in her sheets or even the slightest hint that she’d been here at all. But she also remembers the apathy in Bella’s voice when she killed him as if she felt absolutely no remorse for taking a life. But, Bella was protecting her, maybe she did overreact. That and Bella did apologize. Hermione mulls it over while she gets dressed, deciding to go to the Lestrange manor and set things right with Bella.   
Breakfast is quiet, Andy and Hermione exchange small talk but conversation doesn’t flow easily. Hermione finishes her breakfast and asks for a carriage.  
“Why do you need a carriage?” Andy asks, wanting to make sure she knew where the girl was.  
“I wanted to go see Bella, I might have overreacted, she was trying to protect me.”  
“You don’t need to explain yourself to her, she lets her temper get the better of her much too often, not to mention, she’s not home anyway.”  
“Where has she gone?” Hermione asks, suddenly concerned for her.  
“She thought she could go find the vampires who want to hurt you, thought maybe she’ll be able to beat them. She’s a powerful vampire but she often pushes her own limits a bit too far. She won’t be a match for an army of others. Let’s just hope she’s smart about it.”   
“What an idiot,” Hermione says, Andy chuckles as Hermione goes and once again shuts herself in the library. Andy can’t help but notice the girl isn’t the least bit torn up over her fiancé’s death, but appearances must be kept up. So Andy heads out shopping.

“Why do I have to wear this? We weren’t even married.” Hermione complains, looking down at the black dress.  
“Because, you may not have liked him, but to the world, you were madly in love. You have to wear it to keep suspicion down. You won’t be expected to marry for the next two years, but when you can marry again, you’ll have your pick of the men, as long as you mourn properly that is.” Hermione hates the idea of wearing black constantly but if it means she won’t have to deal with suitors for the next two years, she’ll definitely do it.  
The overwhelming amount of sympathy letters sit unopened on her desk, all of the stationery is scented with sweet, floral smells but none of them can compare to the scent of sandalwood that she craves now. The idea of spending an indefinite amount of time alone, even if it is in Andy’s warm and welcoming home, is depressing to her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some actual Bellamione for y'all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gotten all of this posted and will continue posting it on both ff, and here, hope y'all like it.

Hermione shuffles through the sympathy cards, opening ones that look interesting, but all of them are just boring iterations of the same message. A small note flutters from the stack as she picks it up, It’s just on a plain sheet of parchment, no fancy borders or script, just plain writing.  
You’ll find Bellatrix Lestrange at the hotel on the edge of town, room six. Is all it reads. Hermione knows the hotel they’re talking about, everyone does. But why would Bellatrix be there, and who left the note? That really wasn't her main concern right now, her main concern is going there and making sure she’s okay. It’s been a week and a half and there’s been nothing but silence. It’s likely she’s just keeping her distance to let Hermione breathe, but something really worries her about this. Especially after what Andy had told her, something wasn’t sitting right about this whole thing. And what if the note was someone trying to get her to help Bella, that settles it, Hermione is going.  
Night can’t fall fast enough as Hermione paces the library, waiting for Andy and Ted to fall asleep. There’s no way they’d let her go, and she can handle herself alone as long as she’s not intoxicated. When she finally hears them retire to their room, she makes sure she’s ready, wearing one of the ugly black dresses Andy insisted upon. It’ll make her less obvious in the street, hopefully, and if she is noticed, at least she’ll look proper, not that she’s meant to even be out of the house at this point.  
The walk to the hotel is a long one, but she can’t risk being seen out, so she sticks to alleyways and shadows. The further she gets from Andy’s house, the worse the buildings look, they’re run down and some have people outside or eyes peeping out the window. Most respectable people would be in by now. She avoids eye contact with anyone she happens to see out. She reminds herself to make sure she has at least a knife the next time she’s out at this time of night. The hotel is finally in her line of sight, a light on in a window signifies there’s at least someone there. Walking in the door, she notices the men sitting around, drinking stale-smelling ale. She makes her way to the bar, the woman there looks less than friendly.  
“I have a friend staying in room six, I’m here to visit with them,” she manages to say without stumbling over her words. A key is slammed down on the counter without a word.  
“Thank you,” she says before turning to walk up the stairs, there aren’t any signs saying where rooms are, and they seem to be numbered sporadically. Eventually, she finds the door with a “6” painted on it sloppily. Hermione knocks, but there isn’t any answer. She tries again and then tries the handle, eventually putting the key in the lock and turning it. If Bella is in here, she’s definitely asleep.  
A lamp burns low on the bedside table, barely illuminating Bella’s pale face. She doesn’t look right and Hermione rushes to her side. The soft glow of the lamp doesn’t work enough for Hermione to really see anything. She turns it up and strokes Bella’s hair, dirt streaks her face and her complexion is more lifeless than it typically was, but she stirs when she feels Hermione’s hand in her hair. Her eyes flutter open.  
“What are you-” Bella doesn’t finish the question, instead, focusing her energy on trying to sit up.   
“Lay back down,” Hermione demands.  
“Nonsense, I’m fine pet, I was just resting is all,” Bella tries to lie but her tone gives away the fact that something is wrong.  
“You look awful, what happened?”  
“I look fine, I am fine, why are you even here?” Bella tries her best to give her voice the commanding tone she uses regularly, but there’s no hope, she really doesn’t have the strength.  
“How long has it been since you ate?” Hermione asks, her tone growing softer.  
“Not too long, it was the last time I fed from you.”   
“That was nearly two weeks ago, how do you expect to fight other vampires if you don’t eat?” Hermione asks, quickly loosening her dress so Bella can have access to her neck.  
“No, I don’t need to feed on you anymore,” Bella says, backing away.  
“Nonsense, you need to eat,”  
“You’re not a blood bag, I’m not going to keep using you like one,” Bella says, guilt in her weary eyes.  
“I know I’m not a blood bag, I want to do this, I like helping you,” Hermione pleads, knowing Bella won’t be able to get up if she doesn’t drink from her.   
“Are you sure?” Bella asks, guilt morphing into worry, why she’d be worried, Hermione has no clue.  
“Yes,” Hermione says, pulling the shoulder of her dress down so the vampire can drink. She helps her sit up more, the warm feeling spreads through her as Bella drinks, it’s become an almost comforting experience, she feels very connected to the woman when she drinks. Almost as if they each know the other better than they could by just talking. Bella pulls away and heals the wound before Hermione can say anything about wanting it to stay there.   
“Why did you-”   
“Because, I don’t want you looking all beat up,” Bella says, Hermione gets the feeling that this isn’t the only reason, but she doesn’t push, there’s no reason. Exhaustion is already spreading through her limbs and she feels as if she’ll fall asleep right there. Bella helps her undress before rolling over on the small bed, making room for Hermione, she helps her lay down and wraps her arms around her waist. The contact is comforting to Hermione as she falls asleep, once again to the smell of sandalwood.   
Hermione wakes up, still exhausted, to Bella gently shaking her. The sun hasn’t even begun to rise, giving away the time.  
“Sorry to wake you, pet, but my sister will have my head if you’re not home and in bed,” she says, it’s clear in her voice that she doesn’t want to get up.   
“Why does it matter? Isn’t she already mad at you?” Hermione asks, a small smile on her lips. She wants nothing more than to lay in this tiny bed all day, as long as Bella is in it that is.   
“Yes, but she may just take pity on me in this state if I don’t keep her charge out all night. Come on, I’ll walk you there and help you sneak in through the window, I’ll visit for breakfast and everything will be as it should be again,” Hermione shrugs, as long as she gets her friend back, she’ll be happy.  
They set out after Hermione dresses, most people are inside at this hour, even people leaving taverns have long since fallen asleep in the street or somehow made it home. The walk doesn’t feel nearly as long or scary with Bella here, Hermione finds her presence comforting, the opposite of how everyone else has always described her. Maybe there’s something wrong with her, something that attracts her to “dangerous” people, but Hermione can’t find a single thing that really scares her about her. Yes, she killed Rodolphus, but she did it to protect her, to keep her from being captured by the other vampires. Everyone deserves a friend that protects them like this.   
The house is still dark, giving Hermione hope that she’ll get inside without being caught. They go around the house to her window, squeezing through the narrow alley between it and their neighbor. The window is locked, but that’s no issue for Bella, she somehow unlocks the window from the outside before sliding it up and helping Hermione in through the window.  
Hermione collapses on the bed, upset that it doesn’t smell like sandalwood. But she’s too tired to do anything about it. She’s nearly too tired to undress, but she has to, she can’t have Andy finding out she wasn’t home last night. She’s finally ready for bed, not even needing a book to help her sleep.  
She wakes up to Andy opening the curtains and humming cheerfully. Apparently, she’s not noticed anything. Hermione gets dressed, the boring color doing nothing to compliment her features. She shuffles out of her room, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. She smiles when she sees Bella, already seated at the chair beside Hermione’s.  
“Bella!” She exclaims, only half faking her excitement to see the woman, “where in the world have you been?”  
“Just on a trip pet,” she stands from her chair at this, getting closer until she’s nearly pressed up against the younger woman, “I’ve missed you too, so long without my favorite plaything has left me awfully bored,” she whispers against her neck, sending goosebumps down Hermione’s arms. Hermione pulls away, heart trying to beat its way out of her chest.  
“A-are you joining us for breakfast then?” Hermione splutters, doing her best to keep composure as she sits in her chair.  
“I already asked, Andy said I could,”  
“I said you could, as long as you behave,” Andy says, walking through the doorway. The tone of her voice says she probably knows something. She definitely knows more than she’s letting on.  
It’s a quiet breakfast, Bella keeps casual touches to a minimum which is slightly saddening to Hermione. But it’ll all go back to normal eventually.  
“What’d you learn?” Andy asks Bella.  
“Well, Riddle is most definitely planning something with her, that was his new crest, by the way, he changed it because the last one became too obvious of a calling card. I’m not sure why he’s hiding more, but I do know that it can’t be any good. He seems to be swaying a lot of the older families now,”   
“Well, it’s a good thing you got out when you did, there’s no telling what trouble they’ll be getting into when the elders find them and have them sentenced,” Andy says.  
“Wait, you were part of them? What happened?” Hermione asks, all of this information only makes a little bit of sense to her.  
“I didn’t really have a choice, our parents wanted one of us to be a leader. Instead of going through the elders, they wanted us to go through Riddle, a newer vampire with a lot of sway already. I was meant to marry him.”  
“Oh, why didn’t you?” Hermione asks, almost giddy to find out something about the woman’s past.  
“Well, when he started having me do his dirty work, I put up with it, but then it went to innocent humans and I couldn’t do it anymore, so I left. Without his right hand, he had a hard time, but he’s got someone new to do the dirty work now,” Bella explains, remorse riddling her voice.   
“So there’s a side against him?” Hermione asks, trying to make sense of this mess she’s been dragged into.   
“In a way, yes,” Andy begins, “they branched off from the elders, lead by an Albus Dumbledore. He wants to coexist with mortals, the issue with that is that last time that happened, they all tried to kill us. Most people look at him as senile, but if he can get you, show people how you and your family and friends get along, he may just build a following. That would mean turning you into a vampire,”   
“So, both sides want me as a vampire, one side because I’d be powerful, the other just to use me as propaganda. But why can’t Dumbledore just pick any other mortal and turn them?” Hermione asks, all this is doing at this point is confusing her more.  
“He could, but it’d take a lot of convincing, and the social ties you already have with both humans and vampires, well, it’d cut down on a lot of the work for him. Not to mention, he knows what your blood means, he knows what kind of vampire you would be. You’d be able to tear through other vampires like butter, even as a youngling. You’d win the war for him, and then you’d be propaganda for him.” Bella says, Hermione appreciates the honesty. The rest of breakfast is quiet, and Hermione excuses herself to the library as soon as she’s finished her food.  
Almost as soon as she leaves, she hears the sisters talking at the table. Knowing they’re keeping things from her is frustrating but at the same time, she doesn’t know if this is anything she really wanted to know. After all, Bella tends to tell her whatever is really important. A soft knock at the door pulls her from her thoughts. She sits up straighter, expecting to see Andy, but Bella walks in, a welcome sight to Hermione. As soon as she makes sure no one is following behind the vampire, she jumps up and engulfs her in a hug, inhaling the strong smell of sandalwood from the woman’s glossy black hair.  
“Do you think she suspected I snuck out last night?” Hermione asks, pulling herself just far enough away from Bella to look in her brown eyes, that’s when she realizes something is wrong, the soft, warm brown she’s so used to looking into look almost black.  
“No, pet, I don’t think she did, but we need to discuss something,” Her tone as serious as her eyes make her look, nothing like the playful words that tend to flow from her lips.  
“Like what? What could possibly be so important that it keeps you from hugging your favorite snack?” A playful tone masks the worry in her voice well enough, but she knows she can’t just bring humor to this situation and have everything be alright.  
“Look, as much as I want to hold you and sleep in your bed and get lost playing with your hair right now, the fact of the matter is, that’s not keeping you safe anymore.” Bella sighs, turning her eyes to the rug to avoid eye contact, not wanting to see the hurt in her pet’s eyes when she says this next part, “We’re sending you to a safe house in the countryside, there’s a lovely vampire couple there who will take you in for a few months until all of this is over and you can come back, then we’ll need to work out a more permanent solution for where you’ll stay.”  
“I’m being sent away?” Hermione asks, her heart sinking in her chest as she comes to terms with this new information.  
“I’m sorry pet, if there were anything else I could do I would. But as things stand right now, this is the only thing we can do to ensure your safety.” the hurt in Hermione’s eyes makes Bella want to hurt whoever caused this pain to her, but then she remembers it was her news that did this, and she kicks herself for hurting the one person she promised herself she wouldn’t, the one person she swore to protect. Maybe it had just been a way to help herself feel better for all the wrong she’d done at first, but at this point, she really cares about this stupid, oblivious human girl. All she wants in this world is for this girl to be happy.  
“Okay,” Hermione lets out a defeated sigh, “when do I leave?” she knows Bella is only doing this to keep her safe, but the idea of leaving the person she’s now started to feel at home with, the person she needs to feel safe when she sleeps, it just doesn’t feel right, she’s meant to be by Bella’s side, she doesn’t know how she knows this, but she does.  
“You’re leaving tomorrow, let’s go get you packed.” Packing all of the ugly black dresses is probably the most boring task Hermione could be given, but what makes it bearable is the fact that this is the first time she’s seen Bella do chores without a begrudging demeanor, it’s almost worth the boredom.  
Hermione spends the better part of an hour haphazardly tossing her belongings into a suitcase, the whole time, she and Bella chat halfheartedly about how her time in the country could be beneficial, how the fresh air will help her cope, but somehow she always comes back to how much she’ll miss Bella, her soft eyes she can lose herself in, her shiny curls she can bury her hands in, her smell that she relies on more than she’d like to admit. The rest of the day is spent with her head in Bella’s lap in the library, reading books and chatting idly about anything and everything, as long as it took her mind off of her impending departure.  
Dinner comes and Andy demands she dress nicely for her last-minute going away dinner. Once again Remus and Nymphadora visit, talk and drink create a buzzing atmosphere despite the very small group of people actually in the dining room. Hermione is drinking as much as is socially acceptable, her face is already flushed and she feels warm, but she doesn’t care, these dinners are too much for her, they’re toasting and talking about her, they’re praising her leaving as if it’s going to do anything positive. Maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it's the talk, but she suddenly feels too hot to sit in the dining room. She stands up, everyone quiets down when she does, apparently, they hadn’t noticed how lost she looked.  
“Excuse me, I think I’ll retire to my room now, I have a big day tomorrow,” Hermione says, trying her best not to offend these people who have become a second family to her, these people she’s grown to love.  
“That’s quite all right, Hermione, go rest, we’ll try to keep quiet in here for you,” Andy says, a motherly smile that seems to say she understands exactly how Hermione is feeling spread across her face.  
Hermione makes her way quickly to her room, the warm bed calling her name. As soon as she gets out of the terrible dress, she climbs into the bed, leaving the dress on the floor for sober Hermione to kick herself about.   
Almost two hours later, she stirs from her light sleep to hear Bella come in and put her dress in the closet, she smiles to herself and waits for the other side of the bed to dip down, declaring the presence of her sleep partner. But it doesn’t, instead, she hears nothing for a good five minutes before the distinct sound of the doorknob turning makes her sit up in bed.  
“Bella?” Hermione asks groggily, knowing she’ll hear Bella’s breathy whisper in response.   
“Hermione, I thought you were asleep,” Bella says, letting go of the doorknob and taking a couple of steps toward the bed.  
“I was, but I’m not anymore. Were you not going to sleep with me?” She’s not sure why she asked that, but she really wants the comfort of Bella for the last time for a while.  
“I wasn’t planning on it, pet, I didn’t want to make goodbye too hard,” Bella has made it to the edge of the bed.  
“Is it selfish of me to ask you to sleep here tonight?” Hermione asks, pleading eyes translating even in the dark room.  
“It could be taken that way, but I don’t mind,” Bella says, a soft laugh punctuating her statement.  
“Good, I just want you, I want to spend as much time with you as possible, I don’t know if we can do this when I come back,” Hermione watches Bella undress and crawl into bed, they both lay down, staring up at the ceiling.  
“Why wouldn’t we be able to?” Bella asks.  
“I don’t know, everything just seems so uncertain now,” Hermione rolls over, facing the window.  
“Listen, pet,” Bella begins, wrapping her arms around Hermione’s waist, “if everything in this world turns upside down, I’ll still be here to hold you.”

Morning comes too soon for Hermione, but the arms around her waist make waking up a lot more bearable. Sadly, they have to get up, she has to get dressed, and then she has to leave her vampire to go to the countryside and stay for a while.  
Breakfast is quiet as Hermione battles with the lump in her throat, she can’t cry, not here, not now. Food doesn’t seem to want to do anything but stick to the back of her throat, and each bite brings on another wave of emotions she has to fight off. She’s already tried to convince one of them to go with her, so she’s not alone, but they can’t, they need to talk strategy, and Hermione understands that, it’s completely logical. But the emotional side of her that’s seemed to rule her recently. After breakfast, she heads to her room to get her suitcase, Bella insisted on accompanying her even though she could carry a suitcase on her own.  
“Look, I didn’t know when would be a good time to give this to you,” Bella says, shifting nervously from foot to foot, she pulls a small box, wrapped carefully with printed paper, from her pocket, “don’t open it until I’m out of sight of the carriage, okay?” Hermione is puzzled by the gift, but thanks her nonetheless.  
“You’re a wonderful friend, Bella,” Hermione says, her heart fluttering in her chest at the way she’s looking at her. She turns to leave the room, expecting Bella to follow, but she stays still, “Bella? Aren’t you-” She’s cut off by a kiss, soft and sweet, she leans in as the world seems to melt away for a moment. Andy’s voice from the entryway brings them back to reality, back to the fact that Hermione is leaving. They make their way quickly to the front of the house, and Hermione jumps in the carriage with a final hug to the two sisters. As the carriage pulls away from the front of the house, she waves, her lips still tingling from Bella’s kiss. She didn’t realize that was how she felt about her, not until she kissed her. Then everything started to make sense.  
Finally, after what feels like forever, the sisters are well out of sight and Hermione carefully unties the string holding the paper on the gift she’d been given by Bella. A small piece of paper falls out. She picks it up as if it may explode in her hand, the writing on it is small, but not impossible to read.  
Hermione,  
I wasn’t sure how I’d tell you this, I turned it over in my head for days, playing out every scenario, and in the end, I took the coward’s way out. I love you, Hermione Jean Granger, I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but I know I do. I’m aware of how terribly improper this is, so I’ll leave it at that and the kiss, I really hope I got up the courage to kiss you. It’s all I’ve wanted to do since I met you. Now, what’s in the box is a sandalwood perfume, hopefully, you can find some comfort in it as you seem to have found some comfort in me.  
I love you,  
Bellatrix Black.  
Hermione has no clue how to react, she loves her, she really loves her. A woman can’t love a woman, that’s unheard of, so why does she feel herself reciprocating that love, why did she lean into that kiss, why is she dabbing the perfume on her wrists? None of this makes sense, she’s supposed to be mourning, not falling in love with a woman.  
As night falls, she hears shouting outside the carriage. At first, she ignores it, not wanting to make a big deal out of nothing. But she can’t ignore the carriage stopping and the horses whinnying. The driver shouts once but quickly he’s silenced. She clutches the perfume bottle to her chest, wishing it would turn into Bella, wishing Bella could come and save her. But when the carriage door is ripped open, her eyes meet an unmistakable pair of eyes, eyes that belong to a Black, but not her Blacks, no, this Black is crazed, he’s hungry and you can see it. Sirius Black stands in the doorway of her carriage, glaring at her with a half-mad gaze.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't uploaded in forever and this is a short chapter, but writing is hard and I've been really busy. Hopefully, the end of this chapter makes up for the lack of updates. (still can't figure out how to get the formatting to work half the time, sorry about that!)

Hermione doesn’t quite know how to react when Sirius tears her door open, but she doesn’t have time anyway, she’s out of the carriage and tied up before she can do much of anything. Another carriage is waiting, one a lot less ornate on the outside and less plush on the inside.  
“What’s going on?” she asks, Sirius isn’t at all the kind but strange man she had met at the ball.  
“My lord wants you and he’ll have you. My idiot cousin made a huge mistake in letting you leave alone.” He says, that crazed look still sitting behind his eyes.  
“Who’s your lord?” she asks, trying to stall and hoping that someone will come across them. Before any of that can happen, Sirius hits her over the head and she slumps in her seat.

When Hermione wakes, her head pounds, but she does notice that she’s in a nice room, the bed she’s on is comfortable and the decor of the room is nice, if a bit sparse. The window is boarded up though, so she can’t see or climb out. There are books on a shelf beside the window and she heads over, but most of them are textbooks or in foreign languages, so that strikes out that idea. She sits on the chair by the shelf, cradling her aching head. The door opens and a somewhat familiar face peeks in, but she can’t quite recall where she’d seen it before.  
“Oh, good, you’re awake, I’ll go tell Lord Ridd-” the woman stops herself and scurries off, clearly having done something wrong. Hermione smiles slightly to herself, at least now she knows what side has taken her. A few minutes later, Sirius comes into the room.  
“Ah, so you’re finally awake,” he says, “took you long enough,” Hermione scoffs at him.  
“You’re the one who whacked me over the head,” she says indignantly.  
“I couldn’t have you asking questions, but it seems you already know who has you,”   
“It seems I do, though I’ve only heard the name Riddle a couple of times, care to enlighten me?” She asks, hoping to get something out of Sirius.  
“What you know is all you need to know, you’ll learn more when I take you to him,”   
“Oh yes, you want me as a vampire, but why?”   
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, he will though, now come, no more questions,” Sirius turns to walk out the door, trusting Hermione to follow him. The halls seem familiar, something about the wallpaper reminds her of a house she’d been in before, but she can’t put her finger on where. When they make it to a dining room, it finally hits her, this is Malfoy Manor.  
A handsome man stands at the end of the table, a smile that seems more like a sneer gracing his thin lips.   
“Hermione,” he says, his voice sounding warm on the surface but there’s something disconcerting about it all, “welcome,”   
“Why am I here?” She asks.  
“Right down to business I see, how rude. I thought maybe we could chat, have a drink, maybe even have dinner, but we can do it your way,” he begins walking around the table, slowly dragging his hand along the back of each chair, “you’re here because your blood is strong, it calls out to vampires in a way that hasn’t been heard of in years,” He gets about an arms length away from her before stopping, “I’m sure your dear Bellatrix has told you what a strong vampire you’d make, and I’m sure you’re smart enough to know why we want you.”   
“I’m not becoming a vampire,” Hermione says, adamant that Riddle will not get to her.  
“Oh I’m sure after some convincing, you’ll change your mind.” He gestures for her to follow and for some reason, she does, they wander around the slightly familiar manor until he stops in a library. “Now, as I was saying, Bellatrix has told you all about our world, but I’m afraid she wasn’t very fair. You see, she claimed you before anyone else could even get a whiff, and that’s not how our little game here is played. I made a counterclaim, but it seems the old rules took her side.”   
‘You!” Hermione exclaims, taking a step back, “You’re the one who attacked me!”   
“I figured Bella would’ve told you that by now,” he pauses, “I wonder what else she’s keeping from you,”   
“You’re just trying to get me to take your side,” Hermione says angrily.  
“Of course I am, I want you on my side,”  
“Well you’re not getting me!” She shouts, losing her temper a bit.   
“Sirius!” Riddle shouts, Sirius comes into the library, “It seems like we’re done for the day, please take her back to her room, we’ll try again tomorrow,” 

A week has passed and Bellatrix paces around her library in the now abandoned Lestrange manor. She’s worried about whether or not Hermione made it without issue, worried that she doesn’t love her in the same way she does. She could have misread all of this, she could have been so very wrong, and she can’t even talk to Andy about it, she wouldn’t understand. The idea of visiting Narcissa has crossed her mind, but she can’t stand Lucius, last time she saw him, he was taking the side of Riddle and her sister was agreeing with him as any dutiful wife would. But still, maybe she could cheer her up, they were always close as children. She decides she’ll visit tonight, when she can head there without the headache the sun causes. Until then, she’s decided to read one of Hermione’s books in her favorite spot by the window. _God I’m hopeless,_ she thinks to herself. Dinner comes and goes but she doesn’t leave the library until nightfall.   
Typically, she wouldn’t make this walk across town, but really there’s no reason not to. The cool evening air is a good way to clear her head too. But, despite her efforts to push her to the recesses of her mind, Hermione still finds her way to the forefront. The normal sounds of night make Bella jump, afraid that some drunkard stumbling is somehow Hermione. Eventually, she makes it to Malfoy Manor and walks in. The butler greets her and calls Narcissa from the dining room, a late dinner perhaps.  
“Bella, what are you doing here?” Her sister’s voice sounds panicked.   
“Cissa, I assumed you’d be happy to see me, is everything alright?” She takes a step closer but Narcissa steps back. As she takes another step into the house, she smells vanilla and fresh baked bread, Hermione’s scent, it catches her off guard but she doesn’t let it show.  
“Yes, everything is fine, you can’t stay long though,” she says, shaking her head to clear it and smoothing her skirts.   
“I just wanted to visit with you, Hermione is off to the countryside and I’m bored at home,” Narcissa is visibly relieved as she lets out a breath that she’d been holding since she saw her sister.   
“Oh, that’s fine then, let’s go to the drawing room, Lucius has visitors in the dining room,” She turns and walks briskly toward the drawing room before Bella can ask who’s visiting. When they make it there, Narcissa is still very clearly on edge.   
“Who’s visiting?” Bella asks, trying to break the tension.  
“I really don’t see how that’s your business,” Narcissa snaps, her face falls, “I’m sorry, it’s just a very important visitor from the board of elders, we’re seeing about getting Lucius a higher position.” Bella can tell she’s lying, but doesn’t want to let on, something odd is going on here.   
“Oh, well I hope he gets it,” Bella says, shifting in the rather uncomfortable chair, “How has Draco been these last few weeks?”  
“He and Astoria are getting on just fine, I’m not surprised though, he’s going to make such a good husband.” 

Hermione knew something was off the moment Narcissa rushed from the dining room to greet a visitor, no one visits at this hour. The slight whiff of sandalwood she gets makes her head turn, but she’s convinced she’s just imagining it. There’s no way Bella would be here. She never got on with Lucius.   
“You need to eat,” Riddle’s voice pulls her from her thoughts, she hasn’t touched the food placed in front of her.   
“I’m not very hungry,” she says, pushing food around with her fork.  
“Nonsense, we have a big day tomorrow, I can’t have you going to bed hungry.” Hermione has already gotten lost in her thoughts again, she’s too busy trying to figure out a way out of this place. She knows the way to her father’s apartment if she can just get out, but she needs to seem compliant beforehand, so she can gain their trust.  
“I want to go to my room now,” she says, standing quickly, “I also want to see Narcissa,”   
“Why would you want to see her?” Lucius pipes up, disgust clear in his voice.  
“Now Lucius, let her be, she’s had a rough week,” Riddle says before turning to Hermione, “I think it can be arranged that Madam Malfoy will visit you in your room.” 

Bella hears the sounds of people walking somewhere else in the house. She smells the warm vanilla and fresh baked bread again and hears the voice of a woman coming toward the drawing room. It can’t be Hermione, she can’t be here. But then there are footsteps on the stairs. She waits for the sound to pass but keeps an ear out above them to hear where the footsteps are leading. Narcissa has calmed down considerably, a glass of brandy will do that to you. Bella waits, comfortable chatter between her and her sister flows until she feels enough time has passed that her leaving the room won’t seem suspicious.   
“I think I’m going to head home, Cissy,” Bella says, standing, gauging her sister’s reaction, to her relief, she doesn’t stand to walk out with her. Stepping as lightly as she can after leaving the drawing room, she walks to the foot of the stairs. She keeps telling herself that Hermione can’t be here, but something makes her want to walk up those stairs and just take a look. She walks as quickly up the stairs as she can without making any noise, she knows the place well, and assumes that if they were, they’d be keeping Hermione in the guest room. She tries the doorknob, it’s locked. She runs her hand over the top of the doorframe and finds a key along with quite a bit of dust, it seems they need to fire a maid.   
Her hands tremble as she puts the key in the lock, nervous for what could be on the other side. She knows her sister doesn’t keep random doors locked. As the door swings open, she sees Hermione sitting in a chair beside a bookcase, she perks up as soon as she sees Bella.  
“Bella,” she whispers, she stands up and hugs her, inhaling the smell of sandalwood.  
“I knew it,” Bella says, promising herself she’ll listen to her instincts from now on, “follow me,” she grabs Hermione’s arm and quietly walks out of the room, peering around every corner before taking a step. When they get to the top of the stairs, she sees Riddle walking into the drawing room, they duck back before he sees them. The walk down the stairs seems painstakingly slow and loud, but they make it to the door, trying to open it without a sound. The hinges creak and they hear voices get louder in the drawing room.  
“Run,” Bella is still whispering, but this time it’s more urgent. Both of them take off out the door, caring less about being quiet and more about getting out of there, there’s shouting from the house but they don’t hear it, they just run. A few streets later, they finally slow down, Hermione coughing and sputtering from exercise she’s not used to.  
“How’d you know I was there?” Hermione asks, gasps breaking up every other word.  
“I didn’t at first, but I smelled you there, I almost didn’t look for you at all,” they’re walking, a welcome break for Hermione. It doesn’t seem that anyone followed them, but there’s really no way to be sure. The walk to Andy’s takes a lot longer than it should’ve, but Hermione has barely touched her food for the past week and hasn’t been sleeping on top of that. But they do eventually make it back, and as soon as they do, Hermione collapses onto a couch in the foyer.   
“Andy!” Bella yells, finally in a situation where she can be angry.  
“What in the world, Bella? Do you know what time it is?” Andy comes into the foyer, only a robe covering her chemise. The annoyance in her face is quickly replaced with worry when she sees Hermione.  
“What happened?”   
“I went to visit Cissy and smelled Hermione, I can’t believe her, she knows Hermione is mine,” Bella nearly shouts.  
“Calm down, let's all just go to bed, we can talk more in the morning,” Andy says, going back to her room. Bella turns to Hermione.  
“Don’t you want to sleep in your bed, pet?” Bella asks, Hermione stands slowly, realizing how tired she is after all of the adrenaline has worn off. Once they make it to her room, they both get undressed, just like so many nights before, this time though, it’s different. Bella is nervous and Hermione can tell. She’s keeping her distance and keeps her back to Hermione until she’s under the covers even though it’s just a chemise. Once Bella finally gets into bed, Hermione rolls over to look at her.   
“Bella,” Hermione says.  
“Hmm?” is her only response.  
“I love you too.”


End file.
